Synthesis
by Child of Loki
Summary: Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Or suffer terribly, as Nell Jones has become acutely aware. (Second installment in the Antithesis-Synthesis-Metamorphosis series.) Nell/Callen
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own _NCIS:LA_ or its characters… (but if I did…)**

**Author's Note: Sequel (of a sorts )to **_**Antithesis. **_**Pretty sure it's not necessary to have read that fic, but it's sort of a fun one, so check it out (if you like smut). This one is Nell-centric, and probably not so smutty in nature (well, not directly so, and not at first)… enjoy anyway?**

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/Are you sure we have the right place?/

Detective Deeks, LAPD liaison officer attached to NCIS' Office of Special projects, had asked the precise question that had been running through Nell Jones' mind.

/Leave them alone, Deeks./ Kensi Blye's voice scolded her partner on the other side of the open comms. /Eric and Nell know what they're doing./

At least, the intelligence analyst hoped this was the case. The system they'd devised for selecting times and locations for drops was rather elaborate. But necessary to protect the extremely deep cover Agent G. Callen had taken on. No one, not even a stalker, would be able to detect that the man currently known as Jason Lattimer was having regular rendezvous to exchange information with an entire team of federal agents. They'd already used half the LA staff so that the same face did not show up twice in association with Mr. Lattimer. Soon, they'd have to outsource, or challenge the make-up department to alter people's looks. They'd considered giving Mr. Lattimer a routine, perhaps visiting the same coffee shop on a certain day of the week where a certain brunette waitress worked, but it seemed too risky. Callen's alias was a paranoid man, almost as much as the agent portraying him... _being_ him.

"Nope. Definitely the right place," Eric said, looking up from his tablet. He'd double-checked their selection process once again. God bless him. "It's the 13th, an odd number, so we're using the McNally's Guide to Home-Grown Bistros. And 13 puts us in the M section. It's Tuesday, which means it's the second entry, which is Mantello's Italian Eatery."

/No mathematical formulae or algorithms in there?/ Deeks asked.

"No." Eric sounded disheartened by the fact, ignoring the detective's sarcasm entirely. "We're doing it old school for this one."

Nell's eyes widened as she noticed a certain presence enter behind the technical operator's back.

"It was Hetty's idea," Nell said, trying to warn Eric with her eyes, but to no avail.

"Yeah, and I'm surprised she doesn't have you out there in trench coats exchanging newspapers." Eric began to chuckle at what he appeared to think a rather witty comment.

Nell winced.

"Sometimes, the old ways are the best way, Mr. Beale."

Eric's face fell before he plastered a fake smile on and whirled on his heel to look down at the tiny, ancient spy whom obviously (and legitimately) terrified the young man to his core.

"Um, hi, Hetty," he said. "You know, you're right. Tried and true methods are often the better choice than newer, experimental techniques when an agent's life depends on them."

Nell felt a little wave of nausea at Eric's choice of words. _...an agent's _life _depends on them... _

She shook it off because Hetty was asking, "Still no sign of Mr. Callen?"

Eric brought up the live feed from where Kensi and Deeks were staking out the meeting place from some distance away. He zoomed in on the restaurant front. The 'care' package had been dropped via one of the preset methods several hours ago, but there had yet to be any sign of their absent agent.

/Nothing yet, Hetty/ Kensi said.

/Doesn't look like he's going to show this time, either/ Deeks said.

/We should give him a little longer. Who knows what could have delayed him.../ There was a hint of desperateness in Kensi's voice that Nell did not like at all.

/It's been three hours./ The gentleness towards his partner was evident in Deeks' voice. And that was far worse than the anxiety in Kensi's.

/But it's only been two since the meeting time./

Hetty looked to Eric who nodded his head in confirmation.

"Alright," she said, obviously having come to a decision. "Give it another hour, Mr. Deeks, Ms. Blye. Then come back in."

He wasn't going to show up, just like he hadn't appeared at either of the last two scheduled drops. Nell knew it. Knew it like she knew the sun would set in the west and she would be sleeping alone. She stared at the empty shop front. Bustling with people, yet completely empty for all she cared, lacking the only person that mattered.

Nell started as a hand was placed on her arm. She looked down (but not as far down as any of the others had to do) at her ninja-like boss.

"Are you feeling all right, my dear?" Hetty asked again, looking pointedly at the petite hand attempting to cover the large belly. Nell blushed. She had a terrible habit of absently caressing the unborn child nestled in her womb when she was upset.

"I'm fine, Hetty, really. The little one's just a bit restless." Not the precise truth. The baby actually seemed quite contentedly settled for the moment. It was the mother who was restless.

Hetty nodded, but said nothing.

She knew. She had to know. She was _Hetty_. And Hetty knew everything. But she'd never said anything to Nell. And Nell had never said anything to anyone. And no one had ever asked, even though she could see the question burning away at their thoughts when they talked to her. Except Sam. Sam knew, too. So the secret of it didn't seem so unbearable, no longer like her own private burden.

Nell Jones had a bun in the oven. And G. Callen had put it there.

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**A/N: Nell is knocked up?! Callen is missing?! Am I ever melodramatic :-/**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I'm sorry, but this fic is probably going to be composed of mostly short chapters. But theoretically, that means updates more often…**

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The coast was clear, which admittedly wasn't much of a surprise. The house had been chosen for sentimental reasons, but it was also a quiet neighborhood, just the type a secret agent with numerous enemies preferred. However, that wasn't the reason Nell Jones was currently standing at the front door, turning the spare key in the lock and glancing about to see if anyone had noticed her.

She wasn't sure why she was nervous about entering the house, only that she didn't want to be seen doing so. Perhaps because it felt like a violation of the personal space of a very private man. Although, he had given her that spare key. And likewise she'd given him one to her apartment. It seemed like forever ago.

Nell barely closed the door behind her to lean against the hardwood and close her eyes before the tears began to track down her cheeks. When had she become such an emotional mess? Okay, there was that whole pregnancy hormones thing, but that wasn't the entirety of it, to be honest. She could also pin it on being perpetually anxious since Agent Callen had first taken on the undercover assignment almost six months ago. But the truth was all the stability in her safe, carefully controlled world had evaporated the first time he looked at her in _that _way of his.

And she didn't regret a moment of it.

Even now, as she snuck into his empty house. Of course, there had never been much in the way of furnishings or possessions in the place. But without its owner, it was bleak and cold. So why would she come here instead of going home to her cozy apartment?

Well, because her apartment was equally as empty of the one thing she wanted. And at least here, there were lingering traces of the man she missed so badly it caused her physical pain. So Nell sought out the imprint, the fading presence of her absent lover, making her way to his bedroom, opening the small closet door that held his meager (compared to hers, practically nonexistent) collection of clothes. Rather than pulling a neatly folded shirt off the short pile on the shelf, she bent down with a grunt of effort, reaching out to the side to pluck a shirt from the pile of dirty laundry that had been forgotten when he hastily took on his new alias all those months ago. She hadn't been able to pick up something directly in front of her for weeks because of the ridiculous size of her belly. She clutched the garment to said belly, reached out for the doorframe and hauled herself to her feet.

A moment. Just for a moment. She closed her eyes and buried her face in the discarded garment. Callen's scent flooded her nose. It had faded in short time from her apartment when he'd no longer been around. But it still lingered here, in his few possessions. She'd tried the clean shirts. But they just weren't the same as the fabric that had been worn against his body for the entirety of a day, becoming infused with the scent of his skin, an aroma she'd grown to find utterly intoxicating. And now, now it was a comfort, one of only a few.

Nell Jones shed her clothing, every last stitch, because she wanted to feel the caress of that shirt, the single tie to him she had, over all of her skin. She dressed in the old garment, carefully buttoning it down the front. It strained a bit at her large belly, but she was smaller enough than its original owner that it still covered her down to the thigh.

Next, she located the ancient bedroll tucked in the corner of the room, unrolled it, and maneuvered herself with some difficulty to lay down upon it. Her already taxed body was going to hate her in the morning for sleeping on the hard floor, but her melancholy heart needed to be as close to the man it longed for as she could get. And so she shifted onto her side, placing her hands on her swollen womb and curling herself tightly around the heartbeat it held, the only other tie she had left to the man she feared she'd never see again.

Maybe when she fell asleep, she would dream he lay behind her, spooning her, his arms wrapped tightly about her, his breath tickling the back of her neck.

"Oh, G..."

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**A/N: Well, that didn't clear up any questions, now did it? :-/ Guess you'll just have to stay tuned… ;-)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Had meant to update this one more periodically, but this chapter turned out long for some reason. Also, Sam Hanna decided to make an appearance, as he tends to want to do in my Nell/Callen fics (especially as of late.)  
**

**Warning: Language (I think some swears made it through… not really bothering to censor myself, anyway.)**

* * *

Nell awoke with a start from her rather pleasant dream. Unfortunately, the euphoria quickly dissipated into an abysmal sadness. Because there were no arms wrapped tightly about her, holding her flush to a solid chest, warm breath teasing her hair and a strong heartbeat lulling her into a blissful serenity. Rather, she was alone, devastatingly alone.

And yet, it could have been a ruder awakening.

It could have been one of _those _interrupted dreams. Lately, her feelings of loneliness, her desire for a certain missing undercover agent, and her hormones (to bespeak a cliché she actually abhorred yet had unfortunately found to hold a grain of truth) had conspired to give her the most vivid dreams of... well, of sexual encounters with her absent lover. And the intense dreams would inevitably leave her waking with damp thighs, unresolved tension, and a profound feeling of emptiness despite her large belly filled with brewing life.

She sighed and then started as a loud series of knocks on the front door resounded through the sizeable and mostly vacant house. So, that's what had pulled her from her contented dream state. Her heart rate quickened and then slowed as the idea that it could be G Callen at the door struck her and then was summarily dismissed. He wouldn't knock on his own front door. Then who...

Nell shifted onto her hands and knees with a groan and then somehow managed to lever herself to her feet. _Damn_. Her sidearm was sitting in its holster on the floor near the head of Callen's bedroll. She bent down and retrieved it, recalling the days of free and easy mobility with a significant degree of wistfulness. She checked the Glock's magazine and made her way towards the front door in a manner that was half-stealth, half-waddle. To combat the tingle of nervousness, Nell told herself that penguins wore tuxedos, just like James Bond. Therefore they could do the suave spy shit, too, even with a waddle.

With her back to the wall, she edged up to the front door, and flipped the curtains obscuring the adjacent window to the side every so slightly, peaking out at the unexpected guest.

Out on the porch, looking pensive, Sam Hanna rapped on the front door once more.

Nell felt the tension ebb out of her muscles. She lowered her weapon to her side as she proceeded to release the various locks reinforcing the heavy wooden door.

"What're you doing here?" Sam asked at the same time as Nell.

"Looking for G," the missing man's partner said.

"Still no word?" Nell asked, not even bothering to hide the desperation in her voice. She had to hide it all day long while at work. It was tiring. And she didn't have to hide it from Sam. The big man shook his head.

"I thought maybe he'd show up here."

They both knew that if the operation went south and G Callen made it out alive, he'd show up at the Mission. But none of them could anticipate every situation, every eventuality. And Nell couldn't blame Sam for trying. Did she not spend the night in this sadly empty house on a semi-daily basis?

"I keep hoping he might," Nell said quietly, running a hand over her very pregnant belly. Sam gave her a sympathetic look. Out of all her coworkers, her friends, Sam had been the only one to know. Well, Hetty knew everything, so that didn't count. And the others of course at least suspected. But Sam _knew_ and hadn't been afraid to make her aware the very morning she de facto came out to the world with the fact of her pregnancy...

_..._

_Three weeks ago..._

Nell flopped back onto the bed, feeling exhausted. It was surreal. Her life. It just wasn't happening.

_It's real. Deal with it, Nell._

There really wasn't anything else for it. Except to deny it. And She'd tried that already. It wasn't what it was cut out to be.

Hadn't she done everything right? Hadn't they been careful?

Of course, the one time she decides to play around with having a casual fling and it ends up irrevocably complicating her life. She's gone over it a hundred times, a thousand maybe, dissecting every choice, every word, every action since the first time G Callen kissed her. She should have known better. The man was trouble, wasn't he? At least, that's what he seemed upon cursory examination. But that wasn't him at all. The risks he took, he did to protect and save others, out of a sense of duty, loyalty, morality. He was actually a very compassionate person, warm and funny when he wanted to be. He just had dark days, too. Very dark days. But he was capable of compartmentalizing those varying pieces of himself. And it should have been nothing for the two of them to have a consenting, casual relationship.

And it hadn't been a problem. They'd done everything right. She had even thought to squeeze in 'the talk' between lusty kisses as she dragged him into the women's locker room at the OSP that first night they were together. She was clean but not on birth control. He'd been given a clear bill of health at the (very thorough -Nell remembered the field agents complaining) company physical a couple weeks before and hadn't been with anyone since. He had a condom right in his pocket, and she teased him about getting ahead of himself. To which he had replied that he always believed in being prepared. She had laughed and said she always liked a boy scout. And then... well, that had been the beginning of all of this.

And they'd always used protection. She couldn't remember that a condom had ever broken on them. Callen would've said something, surely. He had always been straight with her. Even when his body's desires had been in conflict with his brain's reasoning, he had never hid those conflicting feelings from her. So even if she hadn't noticed they'd had an accident but he had, he would've told her and they would've dealt with whatever happened... together.

But now, now she was on her own. And she was in that obscure statistical group that taking precautions did not work for. That point-zero-one percent that the condom failed on. Hell, not even that group, but a subset, the even smaller percentage that actually got pregnant that one time the condom failed. Then again, the risk was obviously greater, for how many times had they had sex in those twelve nights they'd been together before he'd been drafted into this undercover nightmare of a mission?

A _lot_. A hell of a lot of sex. The best sex. God, how she longed for his touch sometimes (okay, often). But he wasn't there. And she just needed to deal with that as well. He wasn't there, but had left a part of himself with her. She put a hand on her ridiculously pregnant belly.

"Sorry, kiddo," she said, taking a deep breath and feeling the child move. "I'm going to get us through this. I promise."

She hauled herself to her feet.

Ugh.

Nell stared at the stack of large, cozy sweaters nestled in the depths of her closet with disgust. Not today. She just couldn't do it today. Her skin was still tingling from the inexplicable hives she'd spontaneously developed yesterday, that had covered most of her body. Her obstetrician assured her that although rare, it was not unheard of, prescribed a cream and it had seemed to do the trick. But a too warm, potentially scratchy sweater? Not a pleasant prospect for the day.

And who was she kidding anyway?

On her petite frame, any extra weight was frustratingly noticeable. And she hadn't been in exactly full bloom health for the first few months of her pregnancy, what with the depression and loss of appetite. The pregnancy itself hadn't given her debilitating nausea or the like. Then again, she hadn't much in her stomach to upset it. She had been in denial, of her condition, of the fact that Callen's absence so affected her, of the fact that she'd broken her promise to him.

And so she found herself unusually thin, and even once she started paying attention to her health once more, all the weight she put on went directly to her 'baby bump.' Barely out of her first trimester, she was visibly pregnant. Now, now she looked like she was nearing the end, easily could pass for 7 or 8 months pregnant, even though she had fifteen weeks left.

She should've went the opposite way with her depression, and turned to food rather than shunning it. Then, she might have gotten chubby and she could've hidden the pregnancy much more easily. It would've been a far better cover than oversized sweaters, for certain. She was so fed up with oversized sweaters!

Cotton. Nice and soft, light cotton. She ran her hand over all the dresses in her closet, picking out the softest fabric. Not what she expected, but her pregnancy-sensitized skin was having will-out today. It was this clingy, drapey jersey number that she had thought cute in the store, but had worn only once, feeling awkward in it. The awkwardness had been born mainly from the fact that it just wasn't her style. Since she was beyond caring what she looked like, Nell pulled the dress on.

It was stretchy, which was good, but boy was it being tested to its limits. The fabric, however, was divine. So what if it was so tight around her middle that one could see her belly button had turned to an outie? So what if her breasts had upped a couple cup sizes and the cowl neckline wasn't as drapey as it was meant to be? And did anyone really care that the hemline had crept from knee-length to sit at her upper thigh under the strain of covering her prominent belly?

She bit her lip as she studied the pregnant girl in the mirror.

Oh, to hell with it!

She just didn't care about appearances anymore. She was soldiering through, hanging on, doing right by her unborn child. The world could forgive her wanting one less irritant in the daily grind, couldn't it?

_Later that day..._

Surprisingly, Nell had been able to maintain her nonchalant attitude towards her appearance despite Kensi's wide-eyed expression, Deeks' cheeky grin, and Eric's jaw dropping reaction (which he followed up with severe stuttering). Sam had only given her an approving nod, doubtless for finally being honest with the world (or at least her friends). They were highly trained federal agents. Of course they knew she had a bun in the oven. But they'd all been too polite to say anything. With her blatant showing-off of her condition, they issued congratulations and inquiries as to her health and the child's health and the like, but nothing intrusive.

And Nell was thinking she was safe, taking a stack of files to the incinerator to be destroyed and smiling to herself as she replayed Deeks' truly excited response to her revelation. Besides her doctor and the nurses, Nell had only realized at that moment, no one before Deeks had touched her pregnant belly. It had thrown her when he asked permission, but she couldn't refuse his puppy dog eyes. To be touched in a non-clinical way... She knew she was craving the touch of one specific man, but she'd been lacking, avoiding any physical interaction whatsoever. Hugs were out of the question when she'd been trying to hide her belly. And she missed the odd friendly embrace she received from Eric or Deeks, and even Kensi on occasion. The baby had showed off for Nell's friend, kicking under his touch, which amused Deeks to no end. The whole moment had brightened her day in a way she hadn't expected and hadn't felt in quite some time.

Her smile left her however, when she ran into a wall sometimes referred to as Sam Hanna. It wasn't the man himself. Nell quite liked Sam. It was the expression on his face that killed her happy mood.

"We need to talk," he said.

_Oh, boy. _Nell swallowed, said, "Okay. I guess I have a minute."

Gentleman as he most certainly was, Sam opened the door to the incinerator room for her, stepping in behind her and firmly closing the heavy, soundproof barrier. _Private_ conversation. Whatever this was about, Nell couldn't imagine it would leave her smiling. She tried not to show that his somber attitude was getting to her, placing the stack of files neatly in the oven, securing the door and firing up the incinerator before she turned to the big ex-seal with an expectant look.

"Does G know?" Sam asked.

Nell's heart skipped a beat as panic flooded her system. Sam couldn't mean... But of course he did. Of course he knew. The man was G Callen's best friend. And even had Callen kept secret the specifics of their relationship, such as the fact that it was Nell he was seeing, he likely hadn't kept the existence of it altogether from his friend. There had been that ongoing surveillance (of that blasted gun smuggling suspect that had led to accursed case that'd taken him away from her), all those stake-outs happening at the time. So of course Sam knew his partner had been seeing someone. And the timing, didn't the timing just work out.

"Why haven't you told him?"

_What?!_

"And how was I supposed to do that, Sam? He's undercover. For all intents and purposes, he is a different man. He doesn't know me. I can't just walk up to him and say 'hey, guess what?! You knocked me up!'"

Nell could feel the sting of tears. Sam placed a large hand on her shoulder, and then pulled her into an expansive hug. Lucky he was so large that his arms managed to fit around her and engulf her.

"Hey," he said softly. "Hey, now. It's alright, Nell. I didn't mean to accuse you of anything."

Luckily, she marshaled her tears rather quickly. It was embarrassing enough to break down in front of the ex-seal. Nell thought of the team of field agents as some of the toughest (although still personable and compassionate) people she'd ever heard of, let alone known. And she hated appearing soft to them. (_So much for that, Nell. You're just a whole lot of soft, mother-to-be, now. _No. Not true. Mothers were tough. Really tough. they dealt with more shit than anyone on the planet. They were protectors and nurturers. She was going to be a member of that noble set, damn it!) She pulled out of Sam's embrace and straightened to her full diminutive height.

He smiled at her.

"So what's the point of this 'talk' if not accuse me of keeping secrets from G?" she asked.

He sighed.

"The point was to convince you to tell him about the baby."

There didn't seem to be much difference to what she thought Sam had originally meant to do in having this conversation, but she saw it now. Sam didn't believe that she was willingly keeping the information from Callen. He just wanted her to figure out a way to get the information to his partner.

"You prepare the intel for the drops, don't you?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Nell said. "But I can't just slip…" She gestured at her belly. "…_this_ into status reports and vital operation information."

"He deserves to know."

"I agree, Sam. But now's not the time." Hadn't Nell gone over it again and again in her head. Didn't the big man realize how desperate she was, how alone, how badly she wanted the father of her unborn child to be with her? "Even if I could somehow tell him, it's too dangerous. He can't afford the distraction, not while so deep undercover. I won't risk his safety, his life."

She locked eyes with Sam. How could he not see that it could endanger the man they both cared about? They both knew he'd be thinking of nothing else but that baby he left growing inside of her. G Callen was good, the best, but even he couldn't shut such life-altering information away. It would pull him out of his alias, and even just momentarily, that could cost him his life.

"But what if he needs a reason to come back to us, Nell," Sam said, giving voice to another fear that had been simmering ever since Callen had first gone under. "G's good. Too good. It's always a danger, especially with him, that he'll lose himself in an alias. And he's under deep, this time. And for who knows how long. Your baby might be the link he needs to tether him to his real life."

Nell nodded. The fact that Sam feared the same thing she did was more than innerving. It was going keep her up at night, she knew. But,

"I just can't take that risk, Sam. It _will_ be a distraction for him. We just have to believe he'll come back to us. That we're enough to pull him back."

Sam nodded his head. "You're right. He'll come back when the job is done." He smiled warmly at her. "Who could leave you?"

Nell returned his flattering smile, despite the fact that her relationship with G had never been anything so serious, that she did not plan to hold the man to a single thing. She only wanted him safe. And maybe just one more touch. A kiss would be nice. But just to feel his arms around her, breath in his scent...

"You need anything, you don't hesitate to ask," Sam said. Nell had to wipe a tear from her eye as she followed the big man out of the incinerator room. Despite being separated from her lover, despite not knowing if she'd ever get him back, it felt as if a weight had been lifted. She no longer had to hide her situation from her friends. And there was one person that she not only no longer had to hide from, but that she could turn to for help.

_Sam Hanna was a good friend to have._

_..._

That was the thought that resided in Nell's mind when she saw the big man on the front porch of G Callen's house. After the confusion of finding him there, and the heartache of hearing there still was no news of their missing agent, Nell invited Sam inside.

Neighbors might find it odd to see a giant, muscled man on their secretive neighbor's porch, along with a petite pregnant woman wearing nothing but a man's shirt at the door. She was trying not to make too much of an impression that would give G a hard time when he resumed his residence.

"You stay here often?" he asked. Nell gave him a 'you caught me' look, and Sam gave her a critical, worried once-over.

"G doesn't have a bed. Where do you sleep?"

"He left his bedroll. Do you want some coffee? He _does_ have a coffee machine." She walked into the kitchen, leaving the field agent to follow her and theoretically effectively changing the subject.

"Nell."

Or not. For that sounded a bit like Sam's lecturing tone.

"Is that a 'no' on the coffee?" she asked, turning to face him. Unfortunately for her, Sam ignored her side of the conversation as much as she was ignoring his meaning.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" he asked.

Nell shrugged, put her Glock down on the countertop, turned her back to the unexpected guest and fiddled with the coffee machine.

"I miss him," she said quietly, hazarding a glance at Sam out of the corner of her eye. He nodded his head, a sad, sympathetic smile on his lips.

He had become her closest friend and confidant in this situation, having gone through the whole 'pregnancy' thing with his wife and being privy to details like who the father of Nell's baby was. And so he knew how hard she had taken the separation from G, how she hadn't started off very well in her role as 'mother'.

"Don't worry," she said. "I'm taking care of myself."

"Good," he said. "G would never forgive me if I let anything happen to you or that baby."

"He doesn't even know about the baby, Sam."

"But he will know soon enough."

The ex-seal's confidence was reassuring. And she was immensely grateful for it. No one could put her at ease as of late like Sam Hanna could. She offered him breakfast and he readily accepted, probably because her loneliness was so very blatant. Nell couldn't but think how she did not deserve such a good friend as she went to put on some real clothes and returned to find Sam standing at the kitchen stove, scrambling eggs.

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**A/N: Callen's going to owe Sam big time for taking care of his girl, that is **_**if **_**Callen**** makes it back. (Just kidding. Of course he'll make it back. The question is can Nell hold it together? And what sort of shape will he be in?)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: It's sort of common in the fanon to make Nell a mid-western girl. This notion appealed to me this time around, so here we go. Also, pretty sure canon only loosely defines the composition/relationship of her family, so perhaps my fic-land isn't too much in conflict. But as you know me fairly well from reading this (and/or other fics), you know I tend to kidnap characters and run off with them to do as I please.**

**WARNING: SMUT (you guys are quite the bad influence on me… encouraging me like you do… :-) Also, now rated M!)**

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Seven hours down. Only five to go. Just five more hours and she'd be home. Yes, she still considered her parent's modest house in The Sault _home_. Ridiculous, maybe, but true. And problematic that the place she called 'home' in her heart was a 9 hour trip by plane away from where she spent everyday of her current life. Perhaps that would change in the near future.

Tossing the book she'd been 'reading' back into her bag, Nell sighed, shifting uncomfortably in her aisle seat. Soon, she would be able to get out and stretch her legs. Her back was killing her. Whoever designed economy class seating for passenger jets had not had pregnant women in mind. The thought of shoving herself into another cramped space, and not another airplane for a simple hour flight to Sault Ste. Marie, but her sister's car for a five hour drive from Detroit. God, she should've opted for the 9 hour trip entirely by plane.

But it would be good to catch up with her sister, Elizabeth. They talked once a week, but only for about twenty minutes, and it really wasn't enough. And she hadn't exactly told Eliza, told any of her family about her...um... condition.

Maybe it was just nerves that had her fidgeting in her seat. She glanced wistfully toward the window, and the distraction it would've provided.

By rights, she had booked the window seat, but when she boarded the plane, the young man in the ill-fitting, traveling salesmen style suit (that was obviously the first he'd ever owned) had looked at her with brown eyes gone large with panic. No untrue. He had smiled at her. And then he had seen her prominently pregnant belly. And that was when his eyes had gone all 'oh my god, she's going to go into labor any second, why did they let her on this flight?!' saucer eyes. And she resigned herself to taking the aisle seat, so the poor bastard wouldn't feel like he was trapped between her and anyone who could (or would be willing to) deliver her baby when she inevitably went into labor during the seven and a half hour flight (as he obviously seemed to think she would). Also, she knew she'd have to urinate at least five times before they landed, and it would be easier than seeing his adam's apple bob as he swallowed back panic every time she tapped him on the arm. It would only be to beg pardon to let her out to go to the restroom, but he doubtless would assume that what he feared since first laying eyes on her massive belly had come to pass.

And Nell really didn't want to have to deal with that. Not when she had so many other things on her mind. _Thanks a lot, Sam. _When he'd suggested she take up Hetty's offer of vacation time to attend her parent's 30th anniversary party, something that he argued would at least partly get her mind off _things_ (otherwise known as a missing agent whom was also father to her unborn child), he likely hadn't considered the long, empty hours of traveling that could be filled with nothing but idle thoughts. But god bless him, he also had intuited not only that Nell just hadn't found a way to tell her family about her pregnancy, but that it was something she needed to do in person.

And so she had plopped her larger-than-normal rear in the aisle seat and begun to stew about all the horrible things that could happen, to Callen, to her well organized life, to her relationship with her parents. Well, not the last. Not really. She only dreaded the hurt she would see in their eyes that she hadn't come to them sooner with such important news about her life. They had always been loving and supportive, even during those few teenage years when her growth and search for an individual identity had caused her to clash with them over several issues. And since she left home, she called them every week like clockwork, just like she talked to her sister. Her younger brother, however was still in the 'novelty of college life' stage, and their communications were more infrequent. But he would be home for the occasion, too (Or doubtless at least for the excuse to have his laundry done). All in one go, eh, Nell? Well, Eliza would see her first since they were driving up together. So it would be at least two conversations. And many more at the party itself, with all the aunties and uncles, cousins and grandparents, family friends and her parents' coworkers.

The thought of it had exhausted her. But not nearly as much as the older lady sitting across the aisle from her who had quickly struck up a conversation with Nell.

"It's good to see a young person starting a family early," the white haired, wrinkled woman in a floral dress that looked as if it had survived the 1930s Dust Bowl had said, patting Nell genially on the arm. "In my day, nobody 'waited' to settle down and have a family. Why, I had my first four children by the time I was twenty."

_First four?! _Nell had thought. That meant there had been a _second_ four. She had her doubts about one, for god's sake.

The older woman had leaned over and squinted evaluatively at Nell despite the extremely thick eyeglasses that magnified her fading blue-grey eyes tenfold. The ancient woman had smelled strongly of lilac and old person (whatever comprised this smell, Nell had never determined, but she'd encountered it enough to argue it's legitimacy as a distinct olfactory phenomena).

"Mind you, I was sixteen when I married. My parents would have none of their daughters wed underage." She had sniffed judgmentally. "But to each their own."

Nell had bitten back the sardonic remark on the edge of her tongue. _Oh, and had they even invented planes back then for you to annoy people during flights? Perhaps, Wilbur and Orville mounted a special passenger seat so you could berate them for their life choices?_

But clearly, this elderly woman had been mistaken about Nell's situation, and she hadn't been able to resist correcting the assumption.

"I'm 25 years old," Nell had said. Which hadn't been entirely true. She would turn _25_ this year... just not until much later in the year. But she wasn't 15! That was for damn certain.

She had said nothing else to the old woman, instead feigning interest in a novel she had pulled from her bag. It had turned out that she hadn't had to pretend to be intrigued by the book for long, for Nell soon found herself rather engrossed in the trite romance novel. Despite not really possessing the time to read for fun, Nell retained a rather substantial collection of fiction. And she wasn't discriminatory. Austen, Melville, Dickens, Doyle, Wells and Verne mingled freely with Stephen King, Dean Koontz, Diana Galbaldon, Larry Correia, John Scalzi, Jim Butcher and Janet Evanovich. Not to mention random pulp novels published anywhere between a year and seven decades ago. She loved books. She even devoured the trashy Harlequin romances that could be picked up for a dozen per dollar at garage sales. The one she had grabbed off a stack of new acquisitions and tossed into her oversized purse was one of these, stamped with the ridiculous inscription 'Temptation BLAZE', denoting to be one of the particularly erotic series. She had expected the usual, stereotyped romp of hero and heroine, with absurd colorful language and over-the-top 'passion'. And it had been that, for certain. Yet...

Yet, it had struck her in a different way than a romance novel had ever taken her before. The ridiculous, melodramatic, overstated passion suddenly didn't seem so unrealistic as before. Because, well, if it hadn't been precisely what the (she previously thought were emotionally and physically starved) authors had described, what she'd recently experienced had been pretty damn near.

In real life, a man didn't look at you with eyes that seemed to bare you to your very soul. You didn't shiver in pure primal reaction to the merest touch of his hand, the feel of his breath on the back of your neck. You didn't literally ache, a physical pain that twisted up your insides, with the need to have him buried so deep inside of you it hurt just as much to be with him as it did to be without him. None of that was real.

At least, Nell had never thought any of that could be real. Not until G Callen...

...

_Six Months ago..._

The apartment was dark and quiet as the grave. And Nell Jones just stood there. She had made it home operating on autopilot. She had made it through the day, just barely, in the same state. But now... Now that she was home, and it was time for her to be just herself, not 'Nell Jones, Intelligence Analyst,' 'Agent Jones of NCIS, 'Miss Jones, Hetty's go-to girl' or any of the other roles she played, she found herself completely immobilized. She simply stood stock still in the dark entryway to her apartment, staring into space. Not thinking. Not feeling.

She had felt numb ever since she had watched that bomb go off in the public park that morning. They'd been too late. Too late to save those fifteen innocent lives, to save the dozens of others from injury. It rarely happened. They were really rather good at what they did. But sometimes... You couldn't always control events. If anything, that had been the lesson of her life for the past week.

Nell hadn't intended to start up some sort of casual yet strangely intense sexual relationship with G Callen. It had just... well, _happened_. Bang! Out of nowhere. Well, of course she had considered the man before. He was rather attractive. All of the men on her team were quite good-looking, really. It could drive a girl to distraction if she wasn't cool and collected and _in control_. But life had seemed to want her to learn the lesson that her feeble grasp on the reins of her fate was just an illusion. Because it was easy to be in-control when any attraction, no matter how minor (or major), had no chance in hell of being reciprocated. But then he had gone and kissed her, touched her, _looked_ at her, into her, with those goddamn blue eyes of his. And, oh, god, had the past week been insanely wonderful. Sometimes terrifying, for how unsteady it made her feel, but also, _fan-freaking-tastic_.

And what would she give to feel any of that right this moment? The sensation of numbness was worse than waking up with a severe head cold, groggy and fuzzy around the edges, worse than coming out of anesthesia to a blurry, remote world. Maybe she should eat? But she didn't feel hungry. It was too early yet for her to sleep. She wouldn't be able to concentrate enough to read. And she knew sitting in front of the television would be basically the same as her standing in the entryway and staring into the dark. But at least she wouldn't look so stupid or-

She heard the door open and close behind her, and her detached brain noted how she wasn't even startled from her numbness by the unexpected noise. Nell turned around to see who it was, but hadn't even the time to notice, let alone comment upon her visitor before he was on her. Her back hit the wall with a thud that echoed through the silent apartment, and caused her to gasp for air. His hands pinned her shoulders to the hard surface behind her as his body pressed into hers.

And then Callen was kissing her, like he were a starving man and she were a lavish feast. It was all hunger and a desperate need. And then he stopped abruptly, and when she opened her eyes, he was tearing open a foil packet and removing the condom inside. And Nell realized he meant to take her right there and then without any preamble. Well, any more than that desperate kiss. It didn't surprise her, really. She had seen how the others, even him, had gone into a state of shock just like herself over the consequences of their failure as a team to protect the innocent that day. Perhaps, had it been two weeks ago, she wouldn't have seen it in Callen, in the small changes in his body language, the way he withdrew even further into himself. But she knew him so well now, every part of him, inside and out. She knew he wanted her so badly at this moment, not for any of the reasons he'd previously bedded her, but for the same one she herself would not refuse his advances now. He wanted to feel something, _anything_, to know he was alive.

Nell wanted to feel alive again, as well, so she made no protest when he studied her face with his piercing blue gaze, questioning, seeking her consent. Rather she reached out to cup his cheek, to pull him in for a kiss, but he caught her hand, grabbed the other, and brought them both up to pin against the wall above her head, holding her slender limbs at the wrist with a single one of his larger hands. Her body was reacting now to the aggressive behavior, the implied intent. Her heart was beating rapidly, her breathing quickened. Adrenaline had begun to fill her veins. Yet, she still felt distant, separated from herself and the rest of the world by a thick fog.

Really, she should refuse him. The few times they had been a little too eager for the main attraction, it had hurt her (Okay, it had been her own impatient fault). Mostly, he took his time with her, in addition to kissing and touching her everywhere, he would massage her gently (but never timidly), use a finger or two to stretch her delicate tissue, to ease his penetration of her. It worked wondrously, quite..._ah_... wondrously well. Oh, and it mitigated the stinging sensation of those first few thrusts, too. With Callen, it had bordered on painful that first time until her body had finally relaxed into accommodating him. And the sensation of being fit to burst when he was inside of her had never gone away. At first, she had found it uncomfortable (for the few minutes it took until other sensations had begun to overtake the feeling of imminent rupture) but very shortly, she had grown to crave the sensation. And now, now she wanted to feel the sting of it, wanted the haze to drop away from her.

He obliged her.

Not even bothering with the formality of removing her panties, he simply pulled the crotch of the garment to the side with two fingers, deftly found his target and thrust into her forcefully. Nell cried out. She didn't even bother to keep the vocalization constrained in the back of her throat. In her surreal state, it hadn't even occurred to her to do so. She had gotten what she wanted, after all. She had most definitely _felt _that. It had hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. As did the second thrust, which caused her to cry out with the sharp bite of pain once more. And the third...

She could tell him to stop. A single word from her lips. And he would. Nell knew this, knew that she held that power, _all_ of the power in their sexual encounters. Because she could decide whether or not she wanted him. And he would accept it, without challenge, without argument, without holding it against her. Because that was who G Callen was, and why she felt so safe with him. Even though he was physically much more powerful than her, sometimes rough (which she admittedly enjoyed maybe more than when he was tender), and could be terrifyingly intense, he was in-control of himself, entirely. And he had given her the control over their encounters, to initiate or accept them, encourage them, stunt them, or deny them altogether. Or to relinquish the control to him. As she did so now. She let him take, because she needed him as much as he needed her.

The sensation was most definitely one of pain, yet it cut through the thick fog that had engulfed her that day and she was grateful for it, even as she tensed against the blows her body seemed less than thrilled to receive. But along with the pain, other sensations had begun to return to her. The warmth of Callen's body. The heady scent of his lust. The sting of his brusque penetration had cut a swathe through the obfuscating mist, allowing her to glimpse him, granting her some connection to another human being in the world she'd recently come to know for its true isolationistic nature.

It was wise of him, however, to keep her hands pinned above her head, for had she the chance, she would doubtless have dug her fingernails so deeply into his shoulders as to draw blood even through his shirt. Because it hurt. She felt every thrust of his hips that drove him deeper like a painful blow to her tender insides. Luckily, he finished in what was record time for the man. Callen was such a tease, that he often made her beg him to come before her poor little heart gave out, unable to sustain a body under such stimulation, such stresses. Because without fail he always brought her to orgasm long before he was finished with her, usually several times, or prolonging the synaptic fireworks until she thought her nervous system would burn out. But not this time. Another first. It was the only time she hadn't experienced that incapacitating burst of pleasure during sex with the man.

And yet she felt that same weak, melting sensation wash over her as all the tension in her muscles released, as if her body were relaxing after climax. Callen released her wrists and she slumped against him, wrapping her hands about his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. Her thighs were still squeezed tightly about his waist, her ankles locked behind him, as if to make up for her inability to grasp him with her hands she had latched her legs around him, to hold him.

With a single hand, Callen cupped her ass in a gesture that was definitely meant as supportive rather than amorous. She was only dimly aware that he was using the other to keep his unfastened jeans in place on his hip as he carried her through her apartment. He remained inside of her, and she could swear was still quite firm, until he collapsed onto the bed with her, pulling out and standing to leave her deposited in a disheveled heap on the homely, heirloom (only in the sense it had been passed down from one generation to the next) quilt. And there Nell lay, breathing heavily, feeling her aching vagina throb in time with the beat of her heart, studying Callen with a renewed feeling of remoteness as she began to suffer the sensation of sinking into the thick, soft mattress. The numbness was trying to reclaim her, and she had more than half a mind to let it, if it weren't for the complaint of her body against what it blatantly considered a flagrant misuse.

The man who had effected said misuse proceeded to discard the soiled condom and then his clothing. Normally, this would more than attract Nell's attention, as she watched him pull the blue and white plaid shirt off over his head to reveal a perfect amount of appealing bare flesh. Well, almost a perfect amount. He kicked off his boots, toed off his socks, and pushed the jeans and boxer-briefs the rest of the way off his hips, stepping out of the pile of clothing in his pure naked glory. And Nell had been right. The man was still more than a little aroused. Quite a bit more. Oh, yes. By now, the sight of him would generally have her more than just a little aroused herself. But that damn fuzzy feeling had closed in again. And that was too bad. Because G Callen was just goddamn _perfect_. Not 'perfect' in that body-builder physical ideal, or Michelangelo's David, or other arbitrary social constructs. Just perfect to her, for her. She wanted no one else. She adored the solid compact strength of his body, not bulky with muscle like Sam, or slim and sleek like Deeks. _Just right_. His arms strong enough to hold her so very tightly she felt like she might never escape, his hands the perfect size to cup her buttocks and her breasts, to mold around the curve of her waist, to lay flat over her stomach, to curve curious fingers southward between her thighs. His body was the ideal size and shape to spoon her from behind. Or for her to cuddle upon with her head laid on his chest her fingers playing in the soft curls of hair there, toying with a nipple or tracing a puckered scar, a leg thrown over his waist, the length of the other pressed against the outside of his hip and thigh. Doubtless some of the most peaceful and favorite moments of her life had been spent just like that in the past week.

She was startled from her half-trance, half-sleep, wandering considerations when Callen lifted her from the bed with two firm hands on her waist to stand before him. Blinking to coax her eyes into adjusting to the newly acquired perspective, she looked up into his face. He looked... _determined_. Her still sore vagina clenched as if to say it did not like that look at all. Oddly, since it was the part of her that should have most of the say in such matters, Nell was inclined to disagree with the organ. She _felt_ that look. And she wanted to feel a whole bunch more.

Callen leaned in close, and she breathed in the scent of him, sweat and a sooty smell (the remnants of being just a little too close to an explosion that they were just a little too late to prevent). But also the sharp scent of cleaner and gun oil, shadows of a task he had taken to in an attempt to drive away the emotion of the day. And over it all, that intoxicating aroma of lust.

He unzipped her dress down the back, and then pushed it off her shoulders, peeling it off from her until it slipped easily to the floor. Slowly, carefully, he removed her bra and panties, caressing her flesh only lightly in the process. He scooped her up and laid her upon the bed. And started kissing her naked skin, working his way from her throat all the way down to the insides of her thighs, yet denying her lips. This sort of attention always made her skin tingle and her head buzz with a growing need, but like with everything else that day, the sensations seemed muted and dull. He flipped her onto her stomach and kissed another line along her spine from neck to the hollow above her buttocks. And then she felt his lips against the full part of her left buttock, the sharp bite of his teeth as he sank them into her flesh in a fierce yet controlled manner.

She gasped at the love bite. He'd never done that before. He'd nipped at her neck and breasts, kissed and licked her _everywhere_, sucked at her nipples and _other_ sensitive bits, but had never bitten her on the ass. Of course, every experience with the man held something completely new. The entirety of her sexual history hadn't been as varied or full as just a single night with G Callen.

She felt the pressure of his body above hers, as he leaned across her to fiddle in the drawer of her nightstand. And if the feel of him, fully aroused, pressing into her backside weren't indication enough, his retrieval of a fresh condom left no doubt about what he intended to do to her next. There was a brief argument within her, between body parts that still smarted from their earlier reluctant usage and the profound need she possessed to _feel _that intense physical connection to Callen. One apparently as desperately felt by the man himself, who had shifted to grab her hips, strong and sure, coaxing her to lift her bottom and rise up on to her hands and knees.

There was nothing novel to her about being taken in such a way by him. He'd had her in the position several times over the past week (as well as on her back, against the wall, on top of him, and any number of others). But this time he mounted her, gripping her hips and thrusting into her with such an intensity as to seem more beast than man. And Nell wasn't complaining. It fulfilled precisely the primal urge within her that wanted satiating so badly. This time she orgasmed. Oh, how she orgasmed! Clutching at the blankets with spasming fingers and burying her face in the quilt, half-moaning and half-screaming her carnal bliss to the world.

But G hadn't.

Instead of climaxing along with her with a groan and collapsing atop her breathless and spent, he pulled out of her, still hard enough to cause another shudder of pleasure to course through her at the friction of it. And then he flipped her onto her back, apparently wanting to finish taking her in a different position. One in which he could lock his intense blue eyes upon hers? Which he did. Or to allow him to suck and nip at her breasts? Which he likewise did. Or to grant her the ability to touch him?

Or not. He caught her hands as they reached out to embrace him and he kissed the palm of each before guiding her fingers to close around the metal rungs of her brass bed frame above her head (She'd begun to regret the choice of furniture she'd originally thought charming but had recently found herself tied to and fucked to within an inch of her life on several occasions). Nell had gotten the feeling it was going to be one of those times (it'd happened twice before) that G didn't want her to touch him directly. The man had moods, which always made it fascinating, guessing whether he'd be tender, (sometimes maddeningly) slow, or rough. Whether he'd talk to her throughout, insist she talk to him, or make love to her without a word, as he'd done this night.

He ran his hands down her arms, the calloused palms of them leaving a tingling wake against the smoothness of her skin. They continued their path down her body, following the contours of her rib cage, waist, hips, legs, down to her ankles, which he proceeded to grasp tightly and draw up to rest on his shoulders. He leaned into her, forcing her to open entirely to him. And then he was inside of her again. The sting of penetration was lessened slightly than before, but she still felt that pressure that bordered on painful as he drove deeper and deeper into her with every thrust of his hips. Oh, god. So deep. She was going to die. But at least she could say she'd been truly alive before her body gave out under the pressure and over-stimulation.

She only realized that she'd been holding her breath when every muscle in her body contracted, and the air was forced from her lungs in a scream of ecstacy. Her back arched and the metal cut into the flesh of her hands as she gripped the brass rungs so tightly her knuckles popped. Her hips tried to shy away from the source of such sensory incitement that threatened imminent synaptic overload. But to no avail. G refused to release her or back off, instead pounding her more fervently until she was seeing stars explode behind her eyelids, her brain freezing up, her soul possibly leaving her body, and her flesh feeling like one large, raw nerve. Somehow, she was still able to feel his body tense, the fierce final thrust of his hips that drove him deep enough to send a jolt of pain up her spine. He groaned, a loud, low rumbling sound of pleasure and relief as his body relaxed against hers and she likewise felt the tension ease out of all of her own muscles. She moved her legs to wrap about his waist and she cradled his hips against her own, rocking their lower bodies gently as the orgasmic spasms and aftershocks dissipated. She winced as she pried her fingers off the brass rungs of the bed frame and proceeded to stroke her lover's head, shoulders and back. He made no move to stop her, his need of her having transformed. Her body scolded her with throbs and aches and various other complaints, but she didn't care as she felt his hot, ragged breath against her naked shoulder, his arms wrapped about her tightly as he clung -yes, _clung_ to her. His heartbeat thudded through her chest as prominently as her own. They were alive.

Fifteen people had died that day. Unexpectedly. Undeservedly. But they two were _alive_.

Finally, he withdrew from her, left her lying alone on the bed as he disappeared into the bathroom to clean himself up a little. And the momentary loss of him had been the harshest pain she'd felt that night. He returned shortly, picked her up, pulled back the covers and tucked her into bed, climbing in beside her and gathering her up against his chest. She fell asleep entirely enveloped in the presence of him, the strong musk of his body filling her lungs, the heat of his flesh warming her to the bones, his embrace a solid strength that made her feel secure down to the core of her being.

It was several hours later, when he was gently caressing her that she woke to his tickling her ear with a breathy whisper.

"I'm sorry, Nell."

"Mm?" Her brain was in that twilight that lay between heavy sleep and wakefulness.

"I hurt you."

It wasn't a question. He knew what he'd done as well as she did. And if she hadn't been aware of it at the time (although she most certainly had been), she would be most acutely aware soon. For her body had begun to wake just behind her consciousness, and she could feel the ache in her tenderized vaginal tissues and the strained muscles of her inner thighs. But that was relatively normal for intense sexual experiences. It was the cramping in her lower belly that told her she'd gone a little too far this time. Her cervix, that barrier that protected her callow womb, was most definitely bruised. And she was in for a good deal of discomfort for the next few days. But she didn't regret it, knew she would not regret it, even when she found it difficult to sit still the next day for the discomfort and got concerned, questioning, _scrutinizing_ looks from her coworkers. Because she had needed it, needed him.

"I wanted it, G," she said.

He seemed to accept this, leaning in and kissing her on the mouth for just the second time that night, a much more gentle, slow, affectionate embrace that she reveled in.

...

Nell shifted again in her seat. It wasn't her lower back bothering her. _Stupid, fricken smut novel_. It had brought up recollections she would really be better off not having. Not while she was trying _not_ to think of the man who resided at the center of them. And especially not while stuck in a pressure-sealed cabin at about 10,000 feet surrounded by strangers. How inappropriate...

But, as she'd done a hundred times before, Nell couldn't help but wonder which precise time she'd conceived. Could it have been that night, when they'd reached out to one another in pure, dire need of life. Had they been so desperate for that spark that animated the world, that they'd called another life into being?

She shook her head slightly at the ridiculous melodrama of such a thought. She was a numbers and facts sort of girl. Science and reason were her guides. It was quite likely that the rough sexual encounter had resulted in pregnancy. They'd used protection, but maybe Callen hadn't paid attention and grabbed an old, possibly expired condom from the back of her nightstand drawer. Maybe they'd just been too damn rough and broken the fucking rubber. It was certainly more than possible. There had been blood the next day, but just a little and not her period. Her last menstruation had been before she'd taken up with G Callen, so for all she knew, she'd gotten pregnant the very first night with him. Some women said they could feel the change inside their womb right from conception. She'd felt differently, for certain, but she aptly had identified the feeling as resulting from rarely used parts of her anatomy receiving a good deal of exercise. And then later, she had resolutely ignored any signs of biological change in her depressed state.

She caressed the child inside her belly, silently apologizing as she seemed to do multiple times every day, for her neglect of the poor fetus through the first few months of pregnancy. She had not only come to accept the fact of her pregnancy, but embraced it as best she could whilst still suffering a heart on the verge of breaking.

The baby was hers, after all. Her responsibility. Her pride. Her joy. And she was already completely in love with the child, so proud that it was doing well, healthy and strong despite her earlier idiocy. And she would share that joy with her family. There was nothing to be ashamed or afraid of. They loved her. She loved the baby. And she knew they would love it, too.

She only wished... Well, no time for that now, they would be landing soon (thank god).

* * *

**A/N: Hope that sates your desire for some Callen content, as it's not quite time to reunite our lovers yet…**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: A short chapter, but that's what it wanted to be…**

* * *

"Come in," Nell said upon hearing the soft rap on her bedroom door. And it _was_ still _her _bedroom, had been preserved in the same state she'd left it all those years ago (okay, it seemed like more time had passed than actually had) to attend college. Its contents and decor wasn't quite her anymore, and yet simultaneously reflected precisely who she was in the core of her being. For example, the poster of that band that was hanging on the wall across from her bed. She no longer cared for the specific group, but their style had influenced her present taste in music. _And perhaps in men,_ she noted as the startlingly blue-eyed lead singer stared at her from his forever fixed, over-exaggerated dramatic pose.

The door creaked open, distracting her from the contemplation of blue eyes and revealing her older sister. Eliza had a huge grin, a couple green glass bottles and wine glasses cradled in her arms. Apparently, it was 'sister' time. Ever since she'd left their parents house, whenever Eliza came home, she'd appear late at night with a bottle of wine to share with her younger sister (whom for the first few times had been legally underage, which just added to the fun). They'd gossip and giggle, and just be _girls_.

Nell was about to protest that she couldn't have any wine, but Eliza held up one of the bottles and said, "Thought this would be more your speed this time."

Settling on the teal bedspread, and forcing Nell to shift over and prop a pillow behind herself to support her overtaxed and aching back, Eliza poured her a glass of the sparkling grape juice that had been leftover from the party. Her parents were the sort that catered to every single guest, providing something more fancy than pop to toast with for those nondrinkers or underage. Nell noticed the bottle of Riunite Eliza filled her own glass with was already half-emptied as well.

"To my gorgeous baby sister," she said, smiling and raising it to her lips. She drained the glass, causing said baby sister's eyes to widen substantially. Despite what the 'sneaking a bottle of wine to your underage sister' tradition might indicate about the young woman, Eliza Jones had never been much of a drinker.

"What?" she said defensively upon seeing Nell's shocked expression. "Someone's got to do the drinking for you."

Nell raised her eyebrows doubtfully.

"Okay. So cousin Sharon was driving me absolutely bonkers," Eliza said, pouring herself another glass of the cheap, sweet red.

"Thanks for that," Nell said, truly grateful for the interference her sister had run between the tactless and rather vociferous relative and her pregnant self who wasn't especially interested in sharing the details of her condition.

"That's what sisters are for, right?" Eliza smiled. Nell had always been a little bit jealous of her older sister's smile. They shared the same fair skin, but Elizabeth was more striking in Nell's opinion, with her dark brown, almost black hair, full mouth and the way she just glowed with cheerful good humor. The dark-haired sister's expression turned a little more serious as she reached out and took the younger one's hand.

"There's something I want you to know, Nell," she said, hazel eyes meeting hazel eyes.

Nell nodded, not wanting to interrupt her sister's moment by voicing encouragement or sentiments that were already implicitly understood between them. It had taken them awhile to get to this place, but Nell didn't regret any of the silly (and quickly forgotten) little girl, or more petty and sometimes cruel teenage fights they'd had, for the journey had ultimately led to the type of bond that could withstand any trial. The type of bond that obviated such requirements as polite inquiries. Eliza didn't need Nell to indicate her interest in her sister's thoughts, for she knew it was always there.

"I've got a really good position with the company now," she said.

Nell nodded encouragingly, waiting for the point. She was happy for her sister, but they'd already had the 'career status' conversation on the drive. So what could she...oh.

"I have the opportunity to relocate to any office I want and there's a branch in Los Angeles," Eliza said. And Nell saw the jubilance her sister had been trying to contain bubble up in the grin twitching her wine-stained lips. "I know your place is small. We could get a larger place together. Or if you need your space, I understand. But I would be nearby. You know, if you need a babysitter, someone to help out."

"You'd do that for me?" Nell asked with wonder, feeling her eyes tear up. She loved her sister dearly and knew the sentiment was returned, but still… she'd never expected such a thing. "Just uproot your life, for _me?_"

"You're my _sister_."

Nell pulled her into a tight hug, made slightly awkward by her large belly, which began to twitch, the baby disturbed by the jostling of its current residence. Eliza jumped back, staring at Nell's quivering baby bump with wide eyes. And then she laughed. Nell laughed, too.

This was better. So much better. This is what she had needed, what Sam had convinced her to go find. Her family. Their love and support. The weekend had been a trial. But it had been worth it.

Her parents had been shocked of course upon seeing her in full, knocked-up glory standing on the front step. But they had greeted her warmly, hugged and kissed her, exclaimed their pleased surprise at her condition, and then moved on to hug and kiss her sister with equal affection. Dinner had been..._strained_. Composed of quiet, nervous small talk until her mother had finally put her fork down, looked Nell directly in the eye from across the table and said, 'I'm sorry, honey. I can respect that you seem not to want to talk about it, but I just have to ask..."

Nell had clenched her teeth, waiting for the questions. _Just how the hell did this happen? What were you thinking? Who _is_ the guy, anyway?_

"Are you okay?"

_Are you okay? _Every question that must have been burning in her mother's head, and all the woman really wanted to know, the one thing she had felt compelled to ask, was whether her youngest daughter was _okay_. Nell had burst into tears on the spot. They _loved_ her. Unconditionally. And for the first time in her life, Nell had felt she could truly understand the feeling. For she felt that sort of unwavering devotion when she thought of the child growing inside of her.

"No," Nell had managed to say. And then she had told them. Without telling them the complete truth, of course. But without lying, as well. She had been seeing a man she worked with. They hadn't been together long when he'd gone on a deep cover assignment (not inconsistent with the pretense she used with her family of being a news copy editor). He didn't know she was pregnant. She didn't know if he was even still alive.

The sympathetic sorrow had been apparent in their expressions, their words of comfort. And it was almost a relief, as if they'd taken some of her pain away, bearing it for her. Family was the best thing in the world. And hers was only growing larger along with the life inside of her. Nell Jones would never be alone. Had she only realized earlier, she would never have had to suffer as she had forced herself to do all those months.

She was never alone. She hugged her sister again, tightly.

"Thank you, Eliza. You are the best sister anyone could ever have. But you don't have to move on my account."

Eliza pulled back a little, pinned Nell with a half-serious 'I'm your older sister and you'll do as I say' glare.

"What if I want to?" she said.

Nell sighed, said "I can't stop you." Eliza frowned. "And it would be wonderful to have Auntie Eliza nearby. It's just..."

"You don't want to make plans when you don't know if..." Eliza paused thoughtfully, doubtless searching for a name Nell had never given her, and blaming the wine and whatever else she had drunk over the many hours of barbeque and boisterous celebrating during the day. "...the father..."

She trailed off entirely, obviously not wanting to cause Nell pain. But it was too late. Nell felt the hot, wet tears trailing down her cheeks as Eliza pulled her into a hug, stroking her hair and rubbing her back. When had Nell become so sensitive? She'd never fawned over boys as a teenager. She had always tried to be sympathetic, compassionate, but she'd never worn her heart on her sleeve. But now? She might burst into tears at any given moment. Oh, she could blame the pregnancy hormones, but she knew better, didn't she?

"He'll come back to you, baby sis," Eliza soothed as Nell sobbed into the soft sleeve of her pajamas. It was almost more an expression of anger at herself for being so weak than a result of the despair she felt for her missing lover.

And why was everyone so sure that he would come back? How come she, who had the man wedged in her heart (forming a gaping wound), was the one filled with such doubt in his ability to return to her? It was, after all, the thing she wanted most to believe true in the entire universe.

And then, typical of the strange reversals in mood she'd been suffering as of late, Nell had to fight the urge to laugh upon recalling her father's very serious expression as he sat her down in a quiet corner (well, quiet, in that no one could hear them over the ruckus in the back yard of happy chatter, the clink and banter of a game of horseshoes, kids laughing and screaming and chasing the dogs) for a 'talk.'

Was she really doing okay? Yes, of course she was. Would she tell them if there was anything amiss? Yes, of course she would. Did she know she could trust him and her mother with anything, tell them anything? Yes, Daddy, she knew. And didn't he trust her? Yes, baby girl, and loved her more than words. And if she needed him to track this man down, he would.

The thought of her father, retired postal worker tracking down the superagent who was so mysterious he himself didn't even know his own given name should have been laughable. And it was amusing to think of her father who raised his daughters in a post-feminist world of gender equality performing something on par to a shotgun wedding. But he had been _so _damn serious, Nell wondered if Rich Jones wouldn't just be capable of finding Agent G Callen to save his little girl's heart from breaking.

Her mother only wanted to know that she was okay. Her father wanted to hunt down the man who'd knocked her up and disappeared. Her sister was willing to move halfway across the country just to help Nell change dirty diapers and do midnight feedings. And her brother had practically made her promise to name the baby after its favorite uncle if it was a boy… or a girl, too, because there really was no more rules for naming kids anymore, right? (And Nell thought she'd had issues with the name _her_ parents had chosen for her when she'd been surrounded at school by a bunch of Jessicas, Jennifers and Amandas).

Nevertheless, the sentiment was there, and Nell wondered at how she was so goddamned lucky to have such a family. And also how Callen might feel about a daughter named Henry…?

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so I made her family maybe a little too nauseatingly loving and understanding. But don't roll your eyes at me. Families like this exist. I have one. And we've been given hints in the show about how close Nell is to her family, how much they love her and she them. So that's my justification.**

**A/N2: Some furthering of plot and resolution to come shortly… **_**hint, hint. **_


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: There seem to be natural breaking points in this next section, so I think we're going to do this as a series of short chapters/scenes (and thus, you will be getting multiple updates this week).**

* * *

Back to the Old Grind.

Actually, Nell Jones was looking forward to delving into work again. She had woken up to pee at 4:00am and decided she was up for the day. Her flight had gotten in early last evening and she had taken the night off, falling asleep on the couch after eating a pint of moose track ice cream.

She wanted to catch herself up on the current cases and ongoing operations so that she could be of some actual help to her team. And at this hour, no one should be around, which in her odd mood (doubtless coming down from the emotional high of being with her family) would be a blessing.

Except... the main breaker was switched on. It was by no means alive or even illuminated in the Mission. But someone was definitely there. Nell did a sweep of the main floor, not wanting to be snuck up on by whomever it was after she'd settled into focusing on her work and as such was in a state to be thoroughly startled. Especially, with her goddamn stupid bladder that had apparently become incapable of holding its water. She would _so_ pee herself if someone suddenly tapped her on the shoulder while she was engrossed in computer work and hadn't heard them approach.

The wardrobe and secondary team's workspace were vacant. As was the area she and Eric used as a tech lab. The primary OSP team's workspace was likewise vacant. She was about to give up and just go up to ops when she saw it, saw _him_. A figure lying curled up on the sofa tucked into the corner, his back to the office. It couldn't be... but she knew it must be...

Her bag dropped suddenly from her non-responsive fingers, hitting the floor with a thud. She took a sharp breath, expecting the figure to start violently at the noise. True, it wasn't very loud. But if it was _him_...

The figure did not stir.

Nell held her breath as she slowly approached the sofa and the man upon it. The closer she got, the more certain she was, until finally she was standing over him, and there was no doubt.

G Callen was back.

The breath rushed out of her in an immense sigh, but it didn't seem possible. She must be dreaming. The moment seemed so surreal, despite having pined for it for so long. But there was one way to be certain… Her hand shook when she reached out to touch the sleeping man. She stopped short of actually laying her fingers upon his shoulder, however. His breathing was heavy and he was in a deep sleep that she knew was rare for the troubled agent. He only slept like this sometimes right after sex.

Oh, god, how she _wanted _him! She wanted him to wake up and turn to her, pin her with an intense blue gaze, her name whispered upon his lips, his arms reaching out for her and pulling her down onto him, to lie against his chest, to breathe in the scent of him, to feel his warmth.

But she simply could not bring herself to waking the poor man. Who knew what he'd gone through. If his thoroughly unconscious state were any indication, it had been bad.

Soon. _Soon_. Her heart seemed to ache with the need of him. It would be torture having him just out of reach for who knew how long (hours, a day, an eternity), but at least he was alive and back where he belonged.

Recovering her senses and her bag, Nell slowly made her way to the ladies' room, gently closing the door and engaging the lock. She then proceeded to put her back to the locked door and cry tears of joy and relief.

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**A/N: Callen has appeared to have returned, but what will happen when he and Nell meet face-to-face again.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Callen and Nell's reunion continues…**

* * *

A longing glance in the direction of the sofa as she made her way to ops had informed Nell that her long lost lover was still soundly asleep.

She didn't get much work done, knowing what was just out of her reach. The baby seemed to be picking up on the tension in her and had started doing what felt like somersaults in the womb.

"Ouch!" She scolded her unborn offspring after what felt like a kick to her lower ribs. "Be nice."

There was a chuckle from near the door, and Nell's heart skipped a beat. It was only Eric, though. He must be very excited about something, because he had his 'I'm a small child just bursting to tell something' look.

"Callen's back," he said.

"I know," Nell said. "He was out like a light on the sofa downstairs when I got in this morning."

"Oh," Eric said. "He's up now. Don't you want to come say 'hi, welcome back'?"

"Of course," Nell said, impressed with her own ability to play it cool. "But let me just finish setting up this search to run."

Thankfully, Eric was far enough away not to see her fingers tremble as they hit the keys. She wouldn't reveal anything, if she could help it. For over six months, she had held her tongue, except with Sam, who had correctly surmised the truth on his own. But besides the fact that it _wasn't_ just her secret, the revelation of her pregnancy had broken her tech partner's heart and Nell was not looking forward to a repeat of that. They had just gotten to a halfway comfortable friendship again.

She placed her hands on the edge of the desk and pushed herself a good distance away from the terminal to allow enough space to stand up without bumping her already twitching belly. Eric had given up trying to help her, because she had hated being treated like an invalid and swatted him away every time he had tried to come to her aid (something she very recently regretted as her mobility seemed to dwindle with every passing day).

_Calm. Calm. Calm. Be calm. You can't freak out in front of the others._

Nell combated her growing nerves as she followed Eric downstairs. Callen _was_ awake now, looking a little ragged around the edges, but a bright spot nonetheless. She wanted nothing more than to run to him and jump into his arms, making him stagger several paces backward as he caught her, or to knock him completely to the floor, falling on top of him. But she couldn't do such a thing for more than one reason. One of those reasons was still currently trying to kick their way out of her belly. The other had coalesced around G Callen.

It seemed everyone in the office of special projects had gathered around their long lost coworker, and the air was filled with a buzz of jubilant chatter. Sam was smiling that most brilliant smile of his, pleased to have his friend back. Nell studied the big man in an attempt to ascertain whether he'd tried to warn his partner about Nell's situation, but was distracted when Kensi entered the building for the morning, squealing in an uncharacteristically girlish fashion when she saw Callen and throwing herself at him so he had no choice but to hug her back warmly. Nell smiled at this scene despite the growing nervousness that threatened to upset the contents of her stomach. Because she knew how important Kensi was to Callen, how she had sort of unknowingly filled (if only in part) the hole his sister had left (even though for most of his life he hadn't been consciously aware of its existence).

Nell and Eric had finally reached the group when Deeks arrived with a similar (yet more typical for him than it was on his partner) girlish squeal of delight upon seeing the returned agent. He moved to hug Callen, but the older agent took a step back, holding up his hands in a 'whoa, there' gesture and making some derogatory remark about Deeks' hygiene, much to everyone's amusement. It only took a moment, however, for Callen to relent to the man-hug. Nell knew that despite all the teasing and insults, Callen was quite fond of the detective.

Next Eric stepped forward, sticking out his hand awkwardly. The tall tech geek had been ample cover for her petite self, and Nell shuffled only slightly to remain directly out of Callen's line of sight as the older agent took the younger man's hand and pulled him into a hug.

_Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god._ How was he going to react? She vehemently wished that she'd been able to see him... well, that he'd been able to see_ her _(and her ginormo belly) alone. Was their little fling about to be de facto announced to the entire world? Honestly, she wouldn't care for herself. She didn't care what people might think of her for sleeping with the agent in charge of her team. She was only concerned how it might affect Callen. Would he feel pressured into a relationship with her, one he didn't want?! Would he feel tied down and trapped? Would it push him away from the only real family he'd ever had in his tumultuous life?

_Oh, Help!_

Suddenly she was staring into bright blue eyes and familiar hands were on her pulling into a hug, and _oh, yes..._

Except his strong arms didn't quite engulf her for a full hug. Her belly bumped against him and a look of confusion furrowed his brow as he finally broke eye contact with her to look down between them. A storm of emotion flashed across his face like a bolt of lightning. And as with the natural phenomenon, Nell could not say what the details of it were, only that it had happened. For there was no chance to read what sort of emotions had struck the man before his unflappable facade took over.

He put on a smile that looked as genuine as she knew it was not (well, not entirely, anyway). Stepping back and indicating her belly, he said, "How long have I been gone?"

Laughter broke out in the gathered crowd. Nell faked the amusement she did not feel. She was frustrated beyond reason. But then Callen _did_ pull her into a hug and she no longer cared that she had no answers, only a thousand questions, because he was holding her. It was all too short an embrace, nothing but two friends hugging after not seeing one another for well over six months.

"Welcome back," Nell said when he released her, impressing herself with her ability not to burst into tears. If he wanted to play it cool, continue to keep their little affair under wraps, that's what she'd do. Because god help her, she'd do anything for him.

"Where the hell have you been, anyway?" Deeks asked.

The LAPD liaison officer received no answer, for Hetty appeared out of nowhere to promptly break up the party.

"I believe we have given Mr. Callen a reasonably warm reception," the diminutive old spy said, and everyone fell silent (but not much sobered). "And you all have a lot of work to tend to, do you not?"

Stern Hetty normally would send everyone running for their work spaces. But she wasn't so stern as usual. And they were all a little too excited to disperse hastily, instead slowly wandering away in groups and pairs, chatting about various topics and well, _happy_. The family was _whole_ again.

Only Callen's team, the two techs and Hetty remained.

"Well, shoo," she said pointedly to the lingerers, and then turned to her recently recovered agent. "Mr. Callen, with me."

Nell glanced back over her shoulder as she trudged towards the stairs, catching Callen likewise giving her a quick glance before following Hetty to her 'office'. But she just couldn't get a read on him. She _needed _to get him alone.

The baby kicked her again. And Nell heartily agreed with the sentiment.

* * *

**A/N: Honestly, I'm not trying to be a tease. It just sort of wrote itself this way… More to come very soon!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: To prove I'm not too much of a tease (a conclusion you might have reached based on the overall dramatic nature of this fic), I'm not making you wait several more days for an update.**

* * *

Shouldn't she feel more relieved than she did? Callen was alive and back with them. Yet, Nell still felt a weight on her shoulders. And she knew precisely what it was. But when would she have a chance to talk to the man, really talk to him, just the two of them?

"Nell."

Her heart instantly began racing, for she knew whose voice had interrupted her thoughts on her way back to ops from her fifth pee break that morning. Maybe she had super powers and conjured him through force of will. Well, that couldn't be true, because he would've been back in her life, in her arms, in her_ bed_, long ago.

She turned around to find blue eyes staring intensely at her. He glanced around the vacant hallway, and then pulled her into a window alcove.

"I've got to report to Medical. And then I'll be in debriefing for the rest of the day," he said. "So we've only got a minute."

Nell could feel the adrenaline coursing through her, the tight, nervous knot in her throat. Speech seemed an impossibility, for she was barely keeping control of her urge to flee. Now that the moment was here, she was terrified. She nodded wordlessly, and they were caught in this strange sort of silence, gazing intently at one another, _into _one another.

He looked utterly exhausted. But it wasn't just the dark circles around his eyes. She could see a weariness in his baby blues, a tension in the set of his shoulders. He was preoccupied by something, but she couldn't say what. Her giant, pregnant belly, perhaps? Hell. What else could it be? But she couldn't make out how he might feel about it. And there was really only one way to find out.

Nell opened her mouth, but no words got out. Rather, Callen's tongue got in. He kissed her with more eager need than he'd ever done before. And that was saying something, considering how intense a lover the man could be. The embrace filled her simultaneously with joy and sadness. It was a strange combination, that could only be described as a sort of homesickness, the kind that hits you when you've only got ten miles to go until you're home, when everything is familiar, and you're just so close. When 'home' is no longer an abstract thought. It's real. And it's within your grasp, and you can't quite believe it. And _he _was here, within her grasp, and she couldn't quite believe it.

There was a chirping noise that made Callen growl and reluctantly withdraw. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his cell.

"Hetty wants to know why I haven't shown up at Medical yet," he said reading the phone's screen. "Got to go."

He leaned down and kissed her briefly on the mouth before disappearing, leaving her to stand staring in stunned silence.

What. The. Hell. Was. That.

What was wrong with that man? One minute. One minute with an obviously knocked-up lover he hasn't seen in months, and he doesn't ask her about the baby she's about to pop out. He _kisses _her. (Not that she's complaining about the long-pined for embrace.)

There are times Nell Jones swears that she knows the man better than anyone. Yet she can't help but wonder if G Callen will forever remain a mystery to her in many ways. And for the rest of the day, a thought niggled at the back of her mind.

_How long have I been gone? _he'd said upon first seeing her. Just a joke, right? A cover for an awkward moment. But still... _How long have I been gone?_

* * *

**A/N: Stay tuned for more Callen/Nell baby drama ;-) …**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Hope this was worth the wait…**

* * *

Nell Jones started awake. She wasn't alone. Her hands, rather than flying to protect her heart as it leapt into her throat, cradled her large belly protectively as she gasped in surprise. Then she swore.

"Jesus Christ, G! Are you trying to scare me to death?!"

She struggled about until his strong hands were on her, helping her to a sitting position on the sofa. Had she really fallen that dead asleep as not to hear the man enter her apartment? Of course, Agent Callen was a sneaky bastard, wasn't he just? And she'd been quite exhausted by the emotionally draining day when she'd decided to just lie down for a minute after arriving home. Not to mention that warm spot of happiness curled about her heart over seeing her lover again, knowing he was safe and sound, lulling her into a contented slumber.

"I needed to see you," he said, his gaze quite intent upon her face.

"You could have knocked," Nell said, snapping because her heart had barely resumed its normal pace and she was still feeling alarmed by his sudden appearance in her previously vacant apartment, even though she knew he would never have been there had she not given him the key in the first place (and taken him into her bed).

Callen gave her an apologetic look on par with that of a young boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar (and a cookie in his mouth). That was to say, the man looked properly admonished but not actually regretful. Crouching on the floor before the sofa, which perfectly placed him to stare into her face, he continued to study her with that intent blue gaze of his, his hand caressing her arm absently.

She still couldn't get a read on the man and having just been rudely awoken, she was really not up to starting _The Discussion_. Maybe if she dallied, he'd bring it up. So Nell cleared her throat awkwardly, and tried to make some small talk.

"So... um... how was the debriefing?"

Callen winced briefly, then shrugged.

"The usual," he said, the intensity of his gaze finally breaking as he looked away.

"That bad?"

He rose to his feet, putting his back to her as he rubbed at the base of his neck absently. Was he working up the courage to talk to her about the 'elephant' (also known as 'the giant pregnant belly') in the room?

"I can't do this... I need..." He said so quietly that Nell wasn't sure if he was talking to her or himself. He paced a bit, his back still to her. Disturbed by the uncharacteristically distressed behavior of a man she knew never to show any outward sign of confusion or indecision, Nell struggled to her feet. She gently touched him with a hand that looked small and delicate placed against the muscles of his back. She felt the tension ease from those same muscles as he relaxed beneath her touch. They shifted again as he took a deep breath and turned to her.

She'd never seen so much sorrow in anyone's face, let alone G Callen's. It made her want to curl up under a pile of quilts and cry herself to sleep.

"Nell, you could have told me," he said.

Oh, god, he blamed her. For getting pregnant? For not telling him? He couldn't really believe that she should've contacted him while he was undercover, could he?

"When should I have managed that?" she asked, trying to force down the despair she felt like a cold, hard knot around her heart.

"In the beginning." His blue eyes locked onto her face and she felt a little jolt of electricity run down her spine. "God, help me, I wouldn't have wanted you any less. I still want you so badly I just..."

He hesitantly moved a hand to gently cup her face, and she instinctively closed her eyes and leaned into his palm.

Okay. Now Nell was definitely confused, the ache that had begun to choke her having instantly eased away at his touch. But G Callen was sending her mixed signals. When she met his eyes once more, she found that the intensity of his gaze implied that he wanted to kiss her hard, and do so much more to her. But his words... she couldn't make heads or tails of what he was trying to tell her. She let the confusion show on her face, shaking her head slightly in disbelief.

"You didn't have to lie," he said, his tone one of resigned hurt. Nell swallowed, fought down the fear that she had lost him in an entirely different way than she'd ever expected. But he hadn't withdrawn. Having moved his hands to grasp what remained of her waist, he was practically _clinging _to her. She hadn't lied to him. Not really. Not directly. She had only lied to herself. Lied about being able to keep things casual, about being able to let him go, about controlling the nature of her emotions, about marshalling her stupid, irrational heart. With no response forthcoming, Callen seemed reluctantly willing to press on.

"Had I known..." He shook his head. "No, I _am_ that kind of bastard. Even had I known, I still would've..." He pinned her with his intense brand of gaze once more. "But you said you hadn't been in a relationship for several years-"

_Oh, for fuck's sake! _Nell began to laugh. All the tension eased immediately out of her as realization struck her, apparently directly in the funny-bone. Concern mingled with the confusion on Callen's face, adding several more creases to his brow and deepening the lines along the corners of his mouth.

"What' so funny?" he asked after she failed to communicate beyond the fit of laughter for over a minute.

When Nell finally regained the breath to speak, she said, still giggling slightly between words, "Some investigator, you are."

Callen rightly appeared to take this as an unfounded insult, but at the same time his mood seemed lightened in response to her own merriment.

"I'm an undercover agent," he said tentatively, as if the comment might only further play into the joke he had not been let in on.

"True," Nell said. A giggle burst forth despite her best efforts to tamp it down. "But you work for the Naval Criminal _Investigative_ Service."

"Yes." Becoming less amused by her merriment, for certain.

"I know I look big," she said, looking down at the beach ball-size bulge beneath the fabric of her dress, and then back up to meet his eyes. "But I'm not exactly an average size woman."

Callen grinned, momentarily distracted by the rare admittance of her petite nature, cupping her face again with his comparatively large hand. It lasted only briefly before the confusion returned and Nell knew she hadn't quite clarified the point. The federal agent always seemed to be several steps ahead, so she allowed herself the small bit of pleasure she felt over his apparent bafflement. Of course, it figured that the one time that the man was being extremely slow on the uptake would be the most awkward situation for _her_, preventing her from truly reveling in the experience of having the upper hand on him. Although, with that image of him looking so crushed still in her mind, perhaps it was better not to tease the man.

"I'm 25 weeks pregnant," she said, locking eyes with him, wrapping her fingers around his wrist and guiding his hand to rest upon her swollen belly. She searched his face for his thoughts. Could he feel the life inside of her, the child that was as much a part of him as a part of her? Was that the spark of realization in the back of his mind as his brain raced to perform, and stumbled over the math?

"She's yours, G."

The words nearly choked her. Words she had wanted to say for so long. Words she had thought she might never have the chance to say.

"_She_? A girl?"

His voice was as unreadably impassive as his expression. Nell felt like she was more than holding her breath. Her entire being was frozen in the moment, like a freeze frame from a film, waiting for his reaction, the reaction of the only person in the world that mattered to her as much as the one that had not yet entered the world.

"A daughter?"

Nell felt herself nod slowly, as if incapable of moving at a normal speed, for her universe was still proceeding in slow motion.

"_My _daughter?"

_Yes. Yes! Yours! Only yours! She could only ever be _yours_! You know this, G, just like I do... in the very heart of you._

And Nell saw the epiphany in his eyes, as those baby blues seemed to brighten and a smile slowly crept along his face, lighting his features until he was beaming down at her. And then there was a sob forcing its way up her throat because relief could be as overwhelming an emotion as despair.

Suddenly she was pulled into a smothering embrace. And it was _wonderful_. She felt Callen place a kiss atop her head and then bury his face in her hair, speaking softly into her ear.

"I thought the baby... _she_ belonged to someone else. I thought _you_ belonged to someone else," he said. "Someone who deserved you. And I was just in the way. But I couldn't let go. You were all I thought about for six months, Nell. And when I first saw you again, I wanted you _so_ badly it's a wonder I didn't drag you off and take you right there and then. But I saw your belly and I knew, just _knew _I couldn't have you..."

Nell was made so blissfully happy by his words she could barely follow the man's explanation of his behavior. By the sounds of it he had missed her as much as she'd missed him. But he had assumed her very pregnant, seemingly about-to-pop belly was someone else's doing, someone she'd been with before him, someone who 'deserved' her more than he did, someone she wanted to be with more than him. But how could he think that?! He was such a good man, why didn't he think he deserved any happiness at all (the idea that he thought she could be that happiness made her warm all over)? And if he had thought she was with someone else, then, "Why did you kiss me earlier today, instead of asking me about the baby?"

He released her slightly, pulling back to look at her, smiling that boyish grin at her.

"I meant to tell you that I was happy for you, that I was sorry if our affair had caused problems for you-"

"Just one big one," Nell interrupted, running her hand over her belly. He raised an eyebrow at her and she smiled broadly. "But I don't think of it as a problem anymore. I haven't for a while."

"I'm glad," he said, reaching out to likewise caress the curve of her swollen stomach, a look of child-like awe on his face. Nell was pretty certain that the man hadn't quite processed the fact that he had a baby growing inside of her and soon to arrive in the world (not soon enough, in her opinion). Then he would be a father, a role he never thought to have in his life, a role he'd thought someone else would fill for Nell's children, had thought someone else already had done.

"So why didn't you nobly back down when you found me in the hall?" she asked, adding upon further consideration. "Why would you assume just because I was knocked up that I'd been in a serious relationship?"

"Nell, you're far too responsible a person to get pregnant... by... accident..." He trailed off under her amused glare, and shrugged sheepishly. That was precisely what had happened and he just realized it'd been his accident, too. "Okay, so I wasn't thinking clearly. Give a man a break. By the time..."

He trailed off again, noticing how Nell shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

"Here." He guided her towards the sofa with a hand at the small of her back. Moving to recline comfortably on the piece of furniture he patted his thigh with an inviting look on his face that Nell just couldn't resist. He obviously meant for her to sit her large, round bottom (well, much larger and rounder than the last time this man had seen her, anyway) on his lap. But it had been a _long _six plus months and Nell had certain needs, desires that had rushed to the surface as soon as her anxiety over Callen's reaction had subsided. So she placed her right knee to the outside of his leg and with his strong hands supporting her waist (and lifting her slightly), placed the left on the other side, mounting him. More or less successfully straddling him, Nell eased herself down onto G's lap, laughing along with him when her protruding stomach bumped awkwardly against him. They didn't quite fit together like they used to, but she didn't care. And apparently, neither did Callen, as he shifted, reclining a bit more to accommodate her cumbersome figure.

She wiggled her hips to test the fit and he groaned in that deep way of his that was nearly a growl. Nell had to agree with the sentiment, gasping as little jolts of pleasure shot through her. Her body had become quite sensitive during the pregnancy, and those parts of her were no exception. The friction even through their layers of clothing, the heat of him between her thighs, the firmness pressing against her, had her feeling like she were on the edge of orgasm and they'd barely touched one another. She leaned in to press her lips to his and found herself consumed by a kiss that rivaled the one that had left her stunned into immobility earlier that day.

When they finally broke off, breathless, and _rather_ aroused (as far as Nell could tell, and she most certainly was in a position to gauge such levels), she asked in a shockingly husky voice (that surprised her more than it did Callen), "Take me to bed, G, please."

The man half-groaned, half-growled again. "I'd like to do that more than anything, Nell. But I can't."

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**A/N: What's up (ha, no pun intended… okay, pun intended) with Callen? He obviously **_**wants**_** Nell…**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Feel like you're reading a soap opera yet? :-/**

* * *

_Can't?!_

Judging by the erection pressing firmly into her, the man most certainly _could_ take her to bed. At least his body was quite interested in doing so. Then why was he refusing her? Did he no longer find her attractive with her awkward, distended potbelly? No, he was absently stroking the bulge through her lightweight dress, an affectionate caress that could not be faked. And one with more than a hint of lewd interest as his fingers trailed along its lower curve, dipping dangerously close to a rather sensitive part of her and threatening to drive her completely mad. So, it wasn't lack of interest. Was it because of the baby's presence itself?

"Is it the pregnancy?" she asked, trying to get a read on the father of her unborn child. He looked... Well, he looked as _frustrated _as she felt. So why was he hesitant to relieve the carnal tension roiling between them? "Because the obstetrician said my cervix is very healthy, I'm at low-risk for complications and that it'd be safe..."

His free hand cupped her cheek. She felt like she might just purr as she once more leaned into the most comforting touch she'd ever known.

"That's not it, Nell. But it is good to know," He smiled, a lascivious grin that made her squirm in his lap, which in turn made him groan, place hands upon her hips to still her and close his eyes to breathe deeply and recover his composure... or was that resolve? She felt a flush of heat bloom from the point of contact between them all the way up to her face and down to the tips of her fingers and toes. God, she wanted him! She wasn't too proud to admit that a whine of frustration escaped the back of her throat.

"Agreed," he said, his voice low and husky and _strained_. And she believed he truly did empathize with the feeling. "But I need to tell you something."

He looked so serious. Not as forlorn as when he thought she were carrying another man's child, but still, not happy. It was her turn to gently stroke his cheek, his stubble tickling the back of her fingers.

"What is it, G?"

"While I was under..." He looked downright remorseful, his lips pursing in what could only be described as an expression of distaste. "There were other women, Nell."

Her heart dropped into her stomach despite her brain insisting that it was likely not even something he wanted to do, that he'd been a different man (psychologically speaking, perhaps quite literally, not just in name and 'personal history'). But even if he had wanted a different woman, what did that matter? He and Nell hadn't been serious. They hadn't even had any sort of real relationship. She had no claim to him. Even now, extremely pregnant with his baby girl, she had no claim to him.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"What for?" Nell was afraid her voice had grown cold despite her desire not to shut down, but instinctively she'd begun to barricade her heart from shattering all over the place. "It was just casual sex. We weren't dating or anything."

Had he just grown pale at her words? His expression had turned hard and he appeared to be studying her intently with that piercing variety of his blue gaze. Nell wanted to run away. She wanted him to go away and leave her alone to cry out her misery. He may have returned but she didn't have him back. How could she have been so stupid to have deluded herself into believing she ever had him in the first place? It had just been sex. Nothing more. The fact that he had never left directly afterward, that he'd often held her close through the night, that they'd shared numerous meals together and conversations ranging from light frivolity to serious philosophical didn't mean there was any sort of permanent bond between them. Just because she'd done something as stupid as becoming emotionally invested, didn't mean that he had as well.

She could feel the tears building, threatening to overflow and she tried to pull away from him, but his strong hands caught her waist, holding her fast in what now seemed like a painfully, ridiculously intimate position.

"Please," she whispered, placing her hands against his solid chest and pushing as she squirmed with an intent entirely opposite of her earlier desire to be close to the man. "Let go of me."

"Nell, I promise I'll let you go. I'll never touch you again if that's what you want. Whatever you want, I'll do it. Just hear me out first."

The dam had burst and the tears were flowing, and she could only nod her head, knowing her voice would crack and degrade into sobbing if she tried to speak. He lifted a hand as if to wipe the wet streaks from her cheeks but she turned away until he lowered it once more. When she looked at him again, he began to speak softly.

"The Juarez Brothers like their liquor and their prostitutes. I could fake indulging in the former, but it was trickier to avoid the latter. I tried for as long as could without drawing suspicion..."

The pain underlying his flat narrative caused Nell to cry even harder. How could she have been so heartless and stupid! G Callen had been obligated to pretend to be someone he was not, the type of person he loathed, for months and months, and she'd basically told him that he'd never meant anything to her and she didn't want anything to do with him ever again, a threat that would also deprive him of his child.

"They got pretty fucking drunk, for certain. And just having a girl sitting in my lap while we partied late into the night passed for quite a while. But then-"

"No." Nell finally recovered her ability for speech. "You don't have to explain yourself. I'm just... just a mess."

Callen smiled and her heart melted a little. Okay, a lot.

"A beautiful mess." This time, she didn't shy from his reaching for her, instead snuggling into him as he kissed her tear-stained cheek. And then she did something she would've never done had she not been filled with a hazardous mix of hormones that had her riding emotional tidal currents and suffering a serious case of 'scrambled brain' syndrome.

"I broke my promise to you," she whispered. "_No love. No broken hearts._"

"Shh... It's not your fault, Nell. You can't control life. You can't control how you feel about someone."

He was slowly rocking her, running his hands tenderly over her hair, his fingers combing into the locks. It was amazingly soothing.

"Really? Because you always seem to have such a handle on things," she said into his neck, unable to resist nuzzling the skin just beneath his ear and breathing in the scent of his skin.

"Keeping people at arm's length just distances you from life." He sounded more than resigned, more contented… _wiser_. There was something different about him. His words denoted a change in what she knew was the man's base philosophy of life, the need to insulate himself, to protect his heart. "And no matter how hard you try, you really _can't_ control how you feel about someone."

Was he saying...? She sat back to look into his oh-so-gorgeously-blue eyes. _Oh, wow. _Her heart felt full to bursting. She leaned in to claim a kiss and very shortly they were back to where they'd been just a few minutes before, all hot and bothered. But... But he _couldn't. _There'd been other women...

With some effort she withdrew from the heated embrace and reminded him of his truncated explanation.

"You want to be with me but you _can't_?"

Callen blinked several times, looking a little dazed. His lips were wet and a little swollen from their make-out session. Between her thighs, he felt even harder than before, if that were at all possible. He frowned once her words settled, and then groaned in frustration.

"I always used protection," he said. "But..."

He ran his hand over her belly.

"So did we," Nell said with a bittersweet smile.

"Medical is running a complete blood work-up, but I won't risk giving you anything, giving..." He grinned in an idiotically happy manner. "_Our _baby girl -god, that blows my mind- anything."

The thought that on top of all the man had suffered in service of his country, he might have been given some nasty STD in the line of duty, angered and terrified Nell. But there was nothing she could do about it, except maybe fret (and she'd had about a damn 'nough of that over the past six months). So instead of vocalizing her worry, she said, "You can give me kisses, though, right?"

"Oh, yes. That I certainly _can_."

And he certainly did, which served to take one very pregnant young woman's mind off her troubles, if only momentarily.

* * *

**A/N: Poor Callen! Can't he just live happily ever after with his girl and his baby? Apparently not while I'm in charge of their fate ;-) Just kidding… I just like torturing them a bit first. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Decided not to hold out on you guys, since this short little chapter was very much written several days ago…**

* * *

Nell Jones and G Callen could not keep their hands off one another. Kissing led to touching. Touching led to squeezing, massaging... to _grinding_. And barely being able to stop themselves before... Well, they'd agreed to just avoid being alone with one another until he'd been cleared by Medical. And he _would _be cleared. Because Nell refused to even consider the other possibility.

But sometimes, when he leaned in too close over her shoulder in ops and the scent of him enveloped her, the wanton part of her whispered teasing suggestions. Such as… /just touching/. They _could _touch. They just couldn't mix bodily fluids. So there was no reason she couldn't touch him, couldn't unfasten his jeans and wrap her fingers about him, stroke and tease him until he climaxed with her name on his lips. Isn't that what she really wanted, anyway? To hear him cry out her name in ecstatic abandon?

Okay, she _really _wanted his hands, warm and strong, and that um... _intriguing_ callous on his trigger finger, on her... _in_ her... rough against her smooth, sensitive flesh... creating a warm, electric friction... _and oh, dear god pay attention to your work_. Nell sat back, picking up the paper file and fanning her flushed skin. No one called her out on it. And she realized there were rather a few benefits to being pregnant. It was a marvelous excuse for any behavioral quirk or abnormality she wished to indulge.

Nell's flushed... must be the hormones.

Nell's snippy today... must be the hormones.

Nell's holding the results of that VIN search hostage for a Jumbo Double Dutch Chocolate Muffin... must be the hormones.

Mm... chocolate muffin. Moist and rich, so darkly chocolate it's almost bitter. With a crust of crystallized sugar on top. Oh, god, yes. Forcing G to buy her one every morning for the past five days almost made up for not being able to boink the man until one or both of them collapsed from exhaustion. Okay, those were two entirely different hungers that she was trying to compare, but at least the one was being satisfied.

"Um... Nell, still with us?"

Eric's voice cut through her voracious contemplations.

She straightened in her chair (now with lumbar pillow, courtesy of Marty Deeks), and smiled a bit shame-facedly.

"Yup. Just um... hot flash," Oh, she hated herself for it, but it was just so damn convenient. "You know, hormones."

Eric continued with the brief. Callen's undercover operation targeting the Juarez Brothers had not only cut out a key link in a pipeline for contraband ranging from drugs to firearms to human trafficking, but had produced a vast database of intelligence. There'd been client and suppliers lists that, even dispersed between several federal agencies, would take many weeks, months, to process. Multiple busts were already underway in their own region, with their office coordinating, since it'd produced the primary break in the cases.

The man responsible for it all wasn't currently present. And Nell could only think of one reason he'd be excused from the briefing... if he were down in Medical, receiving the results of his physical. Oh, please, _please_ let him be okay. And not just so they could spend long hours with their bodies entangled in sweaty bliss. She was certain her heart might just break with true finality on behalf of the man were he forced to suffer any more because of this stupid operation. Besides the mention that there'd been prostitutes, he hadn't yet talked about it. And if he never wanted to, she'd respect that. He knew what he needed to do to survive, to live with himself and his actions. But he seemed troubled, more so than before his time with the Juarez Brothers... And she only hoped he'd let her be his comfort, that there was a possibility she could be so.

After Eric summed up the various cases that the State Police and LAPD had developed from the intelligence they'd provided, Hetty began to assign the agents specific ones they were meant to serve as consultants upon. The doors opened and they all glanced briefly in that direction as Callen sidled in. The others returned their attention to Hetty, who resumed her spiel. However, Nell could do no such thing. She stared unblinkingly at the man who so often had her stomach tied in knots.

/_Well...?/ _She asked wordlessly.

A slow grin spread across G Callen's face. His eyes were that dark, intense blue that sent a shiver through her. A certain twinge made her shift in her seat, rubbing her thighs together to silence it. Fail. She began to rise from her chair and Callen stepped forward to help her. Mistake. His hand on her bare arm and the other at her waist sent another wave of heat rushing through her. She locked eyes with him once more when she was on her feet and his hands were still on her. Oh, he felt it, too.

Deeks was protesting about 'liaising' with a certain department in the LAPD, because apparently there'd been some sort of incident with banana cream pies and... Nell really couldn't follow, and did not care. The only important part was that it had effectively distracted everyone else.

Apparently, G was having precisely the same thought for he'd begun to edge backwards to the door, guiding her along with the hand that had never left her waist. They backed slowly towards their exit and freedom and some privacy to... oh, let them get out of here!

Just when she felt her bottom bump against the door, Hetty's shrewd, hawk-like gaze cut to their direction as Deeks made yet another protest and Kensi teased the detective about his ability to play well with others. Nell stopped breathing. She felt G stiffen beside her but he didn't let go of her. Busted! They were in so much trouble for trying to sneak out for a quickie... okay, likely not just a quickie, or at least not just one. Because she knew the man and the look he'd given her.

Hetty winked. And then pointedly turned her back.

Nell looked to her lover. He shrugged, looking as baffled as her. Had they really just been given permission to beg off work for some hanky-panky?

_/Don't question it,/ _Callen's expression said. Nell hit the keypad and the door slid open. No one noticed. In complete synchronization, they stepped backwards through it. The door slid closed. Then they bolted for the car. Well, as much as a very round Nell and a secret agent trying to appear nonchalant could bolt.

* * *

**A/N: I may like torturing characters, but you know I could never permanently damage them! Getting near the end of this fic…**


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: I know you think I was being a tease with the previous chapters, but there's a thin line between teasing and foreplay ;-) But I guess I'd better just 'put out'... metaphorically speaking. Enjoy!**

**WARNING: Pregnancy Smut! If you don't like… well, then why are you following this fic, anyway? :-) Also, language.**

* * *

**ADDITIONAL CAVEAT: It has been pointed out to me that this chapter could be interpreted as condoning sexual practices that are not safe. Does it really need to be said? ALWAYS HAVE SAFE SEX! If there is any possibility of transmitting STDs, use a condom! (And even if you think there's none, for that matter!)**

**I guess I must apologize for simply assuming that nobody would interpret my ridiculous fantasies based on fantasies themselves (because although it may resemble reality, TV is just a fantasy, if no one ever clued you in to that fact) for reality. In reality, Callen would have to have submitted to a series of tests spanning months (in the case of possible HIV exposure, for certain) and been given antibiotic cocktails, because he could've been infected but not symptomatic, or possessing an as yet too low viral load to detect. I guess I shouldn't have taken my cue from the canon, which contains technology capable of somehow enhancing a low resolution image to perfect, detailed clarity, forensics that take next to no equipment, time or labour to yield results with absolutely no error whatsoever, a man who not only survives being shot multiple times in the chest with a high caliber weapon but recovers to perfect health in less than two months (or some length of time equally ridiculous), CPR that actually brings people back to life (anyone who's actually taken a CPR course knows that's not the purpose or result), and GPR that has a resolution that can show objects a very small scale (I think that was NCIS that used it on a single grave and without even creating any soundwaves as part of the procedure, but if not, whatever it was, it was bogus, but again... TV, not reality). I thought in a universe where those things were possible, it was a small leap to assume a man could be declared clean of infectious diseases with one of their seemingly magic 'scientific tests'.**

**In conclusion, don't go having unsafe sex just because you read about fictional characters doing it in a ridiculously inaccurate fanfiction!**

**END PSA.**

* * *

"I've never made love to a pregnant woman before," G Callen said, looking at her with facetious blue eyes.

"Well, you've been doing quite a decent job of it so far," Nell said.

"Just _decent_?"

She gasped as he bowed his head to her engorged, sensitive breasts again. She felt his moist lips close around the puckered areola of her right breast and then his tongue flicked against her nipple, sending a jolt of sensation straight down through her and striking a spot between her thighs. His teeth scraped against her and she literally jumped as another jolt of pleasure shot through her. But she held his head to her breast and he didn't cease his attentions, suckling her first gently and then firmly until she was moaning and kneading the back of his neck and shoulders with her fingers. After a minute or so of this, he broke off for a quick kiss and a mischievous stare.

"Okay." She relented to stroking his ego, since he'd been stroking a number of her things over the past twenty minutes, ever since they'd run for her bedroom, stripping clothing off one another and kissing like it was their last day on Earth. "A _fucking_ amazing job."

"Dirty mouth, mama," he said with a mock scolding tone and sparkle in his eyes before he bent to her neglected left breast. Nell moaned, long and loud. Men had paid enthusiastic attention to her breasts before, _this man _had paid quite thrillingly enthusiastic attention to her breasts on several occasions. And it had certainly never been unpleasant. But it had never been like this, either. She felt like her nipples had developed a direct line to the orgasm center of her body.

"_Oh_. Oh, _god_, G!"

He stopped sucking at her breast just as she felt herself teetering on the edge, instead sticking his active tongue in her mouth. Teasing her seemed par for the course today. And she couldn't complain, she supposed, knowing before they were done, he'd see her quite thoroughly satisfied.

But she could be a tease, too. She reached for him, finding the hard length of him that had been pressing against her outer hip, wrapping her fingers about him and stroking him with a grip halfway between gentle and firm. He groaned, collapsing half onto his side and half onto his stomach, his face buried in her hair, one arm draped over her chest with his hand gripping her other shoulder, but his weight carefully laid to the side rather than on top of her large belly. His breath was hot against the skin of her neck as he moaned her name. And then his hand released her shoulder, moving to stay the smaller one of hers steadily pumping him.

"Stop, Nell. Or this is going to be over a lot faster than either of us wants." She obliged and he took a few deep breaths to compose himself before he moved off from her and sat on the edge of her bed. Nell's back was beginning to ache, despite the pillow, and knowing they wouldn't be able to continue with her lying on her back, she thanked that internet search she'd performed two days ago for some recommendations on pregnancy sex positions.

She studied the muscles of G's back. He was leaner than the last time they'd been together. And not entirely in a healthy way. But she was so far gone, she just knew she'd adore his body no matter what, because it contained _him_, the man she _loved_. The still fairly nicely defined muscles shifted as he leaned to open the drawer of her nightstand. Nell smiled when she realized what he was looking for and then felt a brief flush of embarrassment as she remembered what that particular drawer now contained. He turned to her with a surprised, amused look, an eyebrow arched in an extremely quizzical fashion.

Nell shrugged. "I missed you."

Callen pulled the rather sizeable vibrator out and his eyes went wider. "This was meant to replace me?"

"Of course not," Nell said. "But a girl has needs. Apparently, especially a pregnant, hormonal girl denied her lover. It was just... um... holding your place."

He had a wry look on his face as he met her gaze after examining the not-small phallus. "I'm not sure if I should feel flattered or anxious."

"Anxious?" Nell asked, nonplussed.

He chuckled. "Yeah. Anxious that I'll never satisfy you again."

She pushed herself up into a sitting position with a pillow between her back and the brass headboard, and glared. Men and their penises! So goddamn insecure.

"Despite what all men seem to fear, it really is not the size that counts," she said.

"Then why is this so..."

"Large?" Nell blushed truly now. She'd been okay with the whole situation up until this point. What did she have to hide from the man who'd well and truly knocked her up, after all? But even with all the intimacies they shared, they'd never really discussed the fact that she was built... _petitely_ down there. That he was in fact on the edge of being too large for her to take. And here she was with a rather _robust_ dildo in her nightstand. She was done with secrets, however, so she opted for brutal honesty. So while looking him straight in the eye she told him what she knew he was aware of himself.

"You know it hurts me a little bit every time you penetrate me."

Callen swallowed, nodded. The vibrator was an ironic cheerfully pink incongruity still held in his hand.

"But only a little," she said, needing for him to understand how much she liked, loved, _needed_ to have sex with him. "And only just at first. And then it feels just so amazing. And you made me addicted to the sensation of practically bursting with you buried so deep. Addicted to orgasms, too."

She leaned forward, shifting onto her knees, to wrap her hand over his that held what had become a precious, not-so-little, friend over the past months.

"If I closed my eyes and recalled the feel of you, your touch, your body pressed against mine, the heat of you, your voice, your _eyes_... I could almost convince myself it was you buried so deep inside of me it hurt."

He licked his lips, looked down at the obnoxiously colored phallus, before his eyes trailed up her body to meet hers. For a moment, she could swear he wanted nothing more than to use the vibrator on her. And she wanted him to do it. To push the painfully large thing into her, maybe bruising or even tearing her, one hand stroking her breasts or belly, her face and lips, thrusting a calloused thumb into her mouth as he fucked her with the fake cock. It would be a twisted sort of punishment -not that she had anything to make amends for- to be fucked by him yet denied him.

But the notion quickly, and thankfully passed, their need for each other _and nothing less _more powerful than any other intriguing game they might play. He returned the item to its place... perhaps to be employed at a later time... And then continued to search the drawer. Nell laughed, knowing what he was looking for.

He turned to her, a suspicious look on his face.

"You are really not on top of your game, this week, are you, G?"

He frowned. She ran a hand slowly over her rotund belly, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

No dice.

"You've got a clean bill of health," she said.

There it was. Bingo. Realization.

"And you're already pregnant," he said. No need for condoms. He smiled and shook his head over his dense moment, and then kissed her heartily. When he pulled away for air and left her panting, he asked, "So... how can we… you know…" He made vague hand gestures that she interpreted as representing them getting it on in various sexual positions. "…_do it _with your…um…belly?"

"Oh, I've got several ideas to try." She decided on the pregnancy adaptation of doing it doggy style, remembering how even reading the almost clinical description of the position on a medical site had made her awkwardly wet between the thighs. Placing an extra thick pillow beneath her belly for support, she assumed the position on her knees, her naked backside in the air, leaning down and forward more than she would in straight doggy style, her forearms flat on the mattress and her head resting on her hands. She felt the bed shift as G positioned himself behind her, his arousal poking her briefly in the left buttock. And then his hands were on her, caressing and squeezing.

"You've got the most gorgeous ass I've ever seen, Nell." And the man made an appreciative noise low in his throat. "It's even rounder now, too."

His fingers, strong and familiar, dipped downward, brushing over and then probing into the tender, swollen (thank you pregnancy hormones) flesh between her thighs. And then there was another familiar sensation that had her heart beating faster, the breath catching in her throat and that desperate tension writhing low and deep in her belly. The tip of him continued to press against her, she felt his hands on her hips and she breathed in deeply in anticipation. She released the air in her lungs in a fairly loud outcry when he thrust unwaveringly deep and hard into her.

But G Callen knew her, knew her body, even altered as it was, knew how much she could take and what she needed. And so he paused while still inside of her, leaned down and placed a kiss on the back of her neck as she concentrated on breathing through that brief bite of pain and the sensation of her insides stretching to accommodate him. He continued to place kisses on her back, following her spine downward. It was still hurting, throbbing even. Her body had become _so_ much more sensitive during the pregnancy. She felt like she were boiling with the heat of him inside of her in addition to that generated by her body and the little fetus in her womb. It was also interesting to feel him without that latex barrier they'd always had between them before in their most intimate of interactions. She felt his fingertips against her neck and cheek as he swept the hair away from covering her face, kissed her temple, and asked, "Are you okay?"

"Y-yes" came her quavering, breathy reply. And then more firmly. "I'm ready now, G. Please."

His hands were on her hips again as he withdrew and then thrust into her once more. He was holding back now, but it still stung through the next few thrusts. And then her body relented, elastic and naturally lubricated, easing his penetration of her. He continued to pump gently in and out of her, and she knew he was holding back. Because she knew him, knew his body, knew when he was dishing it out good and when he was using his vast amount of restraint. And Nell didn't want the restrained G Callen. She wanted _all _of him. Holding nothing back.

"Harder." It came out more desperate than commanding, but Nell didn't care. "Harder! Deeper!"

She found the energy and strength despite carrying the extra weight of a flourishing pregnancy to thrust back into him, driving him further into her. It had the intended effect of encouraging him to pound her unreservedly, just like she wanted. _Oh, yes! _She was going to be so sore she probably wouldn't be able to sit down when they went back to work later that day (_if_ they managed to crawl out of bed later). When had she become so kinky? Who the fuck cared?!

She had been feeling the little jolts and sparks of pleasure like lightning striking through her nervous system since G had first pulled her into that sinful kiss against the front door of her apartment. But there'd been a low background buzz building in her from the moment he touched her naked body, and it had transformed into a thrum in her veins, a humming in her head. And she was on the edge of imminent combustion. And then he shifted his hips ever so slightly, groaning lightly in satisfaction, the new angle hitting a spot inside of her that was like compressing a trigger and she screamed his name, feeling all of her muscles tense and the shudder of orgasm claim the entirety of her being. The explosion of pleasure persisted as she felt the grip of his hands tighten on her hips, and she could feel the climax building in him with every earnest thrust of his pelvis, her body spasming tightly around him. Every stroke sent an extra spark of sensation coursing through her, and each proved to not be the climax she thought it must be, rather followed by another and another, making her cry out and twist her fingers into the soft cotton sheets until finally she felt G's fingers dig painfully into her hips, his cock plunging impossibly deep, and the hot, fluid rush of his release, her name a loud cry on his lips.

His climax proved to be hers as well, and she finally found the height of the orgasm he'd both pleasured and tortured her with, the mattress absorbing her scream born from the novel sensation of his ejaculation flooding her insides with liquid heat. He collapsed on top of her, and then quickly moved his arms to support the majority of his weight, lifting off from her slightly when she squeaked over the uncomfortable compression of her belly beneath her.

"Sorry," he said, his voice still low and husky. He brushed the hair away from the nape of her neck and placed a kiss there. She was still moaning faintly in the back of her throat, residual sparks crackling through her nervous system after the storm, but she managed to find some sort of half-coherent portion of her brain.

"Don't apologize to me," she said. "I'm not the one you just squished."

He chuckled, caressed her belly tenderly and whispered an apology to the baby in the womb, causing her to laugh as well over the genuine remorse in his voice, present despite the fact he knew the baby had absolutely no idea what he was saying if the poor little creature could even hear him.

God, she felt so good, a kind of happy Nell was pretty damn certain she'd never felt before. Not even with this man. And that was saying something. He'd made her moan, groan, beg for mercy and scream his name. But this... this had been a whole other level of sensation. It'd been a fucking _transcendent_ orgasm. She told him so.

He laughed and kissed her cheek.

"No. Seriously," Nell said. "I think I saw at least the Archangel Gabriel. Oh!-" Her train of thought was sharply interrupted when he pulled out of her, the friction sending a much stronger jolt through her than the ones dwindling and dissipating as her brain and body chemistry leveled out. She struggled to turn onto her side as G shifted to likewise lie on his side, facing her. He studied her, a contented glow in his blue eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She smiled. "Better than okay. Especially with you." She squirmed a bit, feeling her thighs glide slick and sticky over one another. "But quite a bit... _wetter _than usual."

His mouth twitched. "Pleasant or unpleasant?"

"Not sure," she said. Her hormone-drenched body produced a lot more fluids than pre-pregnancy Nell's corpus had. And then there was everything Callen had pumped into her, flowing freely without the constraint of a condom. Apparently, the combined volume was beyond her capacity to contain and was...um... overflowing... The thought of mingled semen and vaginal discharge coating her thighs should probably gross her out. But it didn't. Especially when she recalled the feel of his vulnerable skin sliding against her sensitive insides. The sensation of his ejaculating deep inside of her.

"I've never had sex _au naturel _before." He nodded in acknowledgement, looking unsurprised, for he already knew this. Because he knew her, her personal and romantic history that had inadvertently been revealed when they'd become unwittingly much more intimate lovers than a mere 'casual sex' relationship would imply.

"But I like the way it felt when you came inside of me, with no barriers in between us."

_No barriers. _That's how she always wanted to be with this man. He always seemed to have so many. But not when he was holding her close like this. And that's all she wanted. He didn't have to reopen old wounds and bare his past pains to her. She only wanted him to be with her wholly, entirely, when he could.

"Me, too, Nell," he said, giving her a sage look that made her believe he'd read her thoughts. And smiling, he kissed her soundly on the mouth, slowly and affectionately. He groaned, like a chocolate addict savoring a hand rolled truffle on their tongue.

"God, how I missed you," he said.

She wiggled closer, wrapping her arms about him to stroke his back, her bare round belly pressing against his naked stomach, their sweat-dampened skin sticking together with the contact. She kissed the equally sweat-slick skin along his collarbone, darting her tongue out to sample the saltiness. His hand stroked her hair and he nuzzled her cheek.

She felt contented but with the orgasmic high wearing off, she had a sudden flash of needy girlishness.

"Tell me," she said. His strong arms were around her. His warm breath on her neck, his heart beating steadily beneath the hand she had pressed against his back. His baby was settled, seemingly happy for the moment (and not kicking her in the liver for once) in her womb, and the evidence of his amorous affections were congealing between her thighs. But for some stupid reason, she needed to hear words, as well. "Tell me how you missed me."

"Hmm..." His hand moved down her naked back to cup her bottom, and Nell felt for certain that her supposedly 'gorgeous round ass' would start off the list. But apparently, it wasn't physical characteristics that came foremost to G Callen's mind when he thought of what he'd missed about her.

"I missed your dry wit," he said. "I missed your laugh and your smile and your big, expressive eyes. I missed how you somehow manage to smell like sugar cookies even though you only bake them once a week and all of your shampoos and soaps are fruity."

"What?" she interrupted. "I smell like _cookies_?"

"I _like_ it," he said, nibbling her neck in demonstration. She giggled. "I also like the way you _taste_." He nibbled at her more until she was squirming against him, finally slapping and pushing at his shoulder until he relented and withdrew. But apparently this wasn't the end of his list of desirable things about Nell Jones, for he continued.

"But I missed sleeping with you in my arms most of all." He pulled her tighter to him. "Eating dinner with you, talking with you, your amusing accents, especially the stereotypical Canadian one, _eh?_"

Nell felt a blush spread across her cheeks. To remember such details about her. He really did care deeply about her and not just the pleasures of her round ass.

"The way you chew your lip when you're figuring out an especially challenging problem... The way you can put anyone at ease with your friendly manner. I love how you can talk tech geek with Eric, movies and celebrity gossip with Deeks, girly stuff with Kensi, jazz and football with Sam and philosophy with Hetty."

He paused, simply holding her, the silence easy and comfortable, filled only with the sound of their breathing. Finally he spoke, low and soft, but clearly.

"I love you, Nell."

Her heart stuttered with the shock. Oh, she _knew_ he loved her. She'd seen it in his eyes when he came back to her. Whatever had happened to him when he was away, it had somehow cultivated the seeds that apparently had been planted in his heart six months ago. But she had never expected him to say aloud such a thing to her, not this soon. Maybe not ever.

"I love you, too, G."

And there was nothing else that needed to be said for the moment, so they lay there, silently cuddling until they fell asleep in one another's arms.

* * *

**A/N: I think this fic should be wrapped up pretty soon… **


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: And more sweetness. So much more I might just vomit. Is it bad that I can stand far less light and fluffy than dark and gritty?(Guess I've always had more of a taste for the savory... although who isn't addicted to some chocolate?)**

**Warning: Feeling way OOC here, but perhaps I've played with them enough to merit such character development and changes... maybe? I also haven't watched an episode in a while and have probably just run off the deep end, dragging them behind me. (Is this a good time to mention yet again that I don't own these characters and only my insanity profits from my use/abuse of them... and profit is probably not the right term... proliferates? Flourishes? Escalates?...)  
**

**Shameless Plug Moment: If you enjoy fics centered around Nell Jones, check out my crossover with the Die Hard universe (**_**It's Always About the Money**_**). It should be more action-adventure-y on par with **_**Exposed **_**(which is also fun, in my humble and apparently vain opinion, so give that one a go, too, if you haven't already). Well, the crossover probably will have more action/violence… Anyway, check it out if you're into that sort of thing.**

**And onto the fluff…**

* * *

Nell Jones awoke in blissful contentment. It was a rare sensation, and she reveled in it until she realized with a pang of sadness that she was all alone in bed. The startling thought that it had all been a dream tore through her. And then she swiftly pushed it aside. _That _had been too real. She knew the feel of her body after making love, despite having been deprived of her lover for months upon months. And the scent of his skin still lingered in the sheets and on her own skin. And now she could hear noise from a little distance away. With some amount of effort, she managed to roll her bulk over, feeling somewhat like a beached whale. G Callen was just coming out of the en suite, wearing nothing but his blue jeans and a charming grin when he noticed she was awake.

He was freshly showered and his naked skin still glowed from being scrubbed clean. And when he crouched down beside the bed and leaned in close, she could smell her dove soap on him. He kissed her lightly on the cheek. She stretched and groaned.

"Do we have to go back to work?"

Oh, how she loved G's mischievous smiles, the sort of quiet playfulness that encompassed more than just his lips, but twinkled in his eyes, just like the one that lit his face that very moment.

"I squared it with Hetty," he said. Nell wondered if he'd managed to buy them the rest of the day off without even owing the old spy a favor. For the younger woman knew just how relieved the older one was to have the agent back safe and sound. "How 'bout a bath?"

"Ooh... yes, _please_." The man did know her _so_ well. "That would be wonderful."

Callen excused himself with a kiss and drew her a bath. Oh, she could get used to being pampered. That was for certain. Although, on the other hand, she could see where she might feel smothered at some point. She'd become used to living with her condition entirely on her own, after all.

"I'm not an invalid, you know," she said, after he'd helped her out of bed, guided her into the bathroom, took her arms and draped them around his neck, placed his strong hands on her waist to steady her while she stepped into the tub, and then lowered her awkward bulk down into the _perfect_ temperature water. Warm enough that it completely eased every bit of remaining tension from her muscles, not hot enough to make sweat break out on her skin that remain exposed to the air.

"I know," he said. "But I haven't been able to take care of you like I should've been. So let me?"

How could she refuse those sparkling blue eyes?

"You'll hear no objections from me," she said.

And then G Callen proved his hands were as deft at washing a woman's body as they were at pleasuring one. Must be all that gun play that gave him such dexterous fingers... Oh, god. That was nice. He gently shampooed and rinsed her hair, then washed her skin slowly, an almost meditative look on his face as he went about the task. Closing her eyes and laying her head back, Nell wondered at how the same hands placed on the same parts of her body could produce such a different result. Just over an hour ago, those hands had stirred her to an unbearable frenzy of arousal. Presently, they were soothing her nerves into a lovely sort of numbness. She might just fall back asleep...

A light pressure upon her forehead roused her from the half-conscious, delicious stupor. Ablutions completed, G had kissed her on the forehead. She smiled an absent, completely genuine smile up at him.

"Want to soak for a while?" he asked.

Nell nodded, feeling that stupid grin still plastered across her face. But who could blame her?

"Nell?"

"Hmm...?"

He shifted slightly on his knees beside the tub, so that his brilliant blue eyes were staring directly into her hazel ones. There was something serious on his mind, and so she tried to wake her brain up a little more, enough to concentrate on what he said next.

"You should move into my house."

_Whoa_.

But did he just say... "_Should_?"

He laughed. And she knew it was because he was well aware of her obsession for grammatical accuracy and attention to details. It had exasperated him on several occasions, and he had never hesitated to tell her so.

"I _want _you to."

Nell bit her lip so as not to cry out 'Yes! Of course I will. I would like that more than anything!' (Or squeal in delight like a teenage girl…) Because it was not something to take on lightly, especially with this man.

Observing her reaction, G frowned slightly.

"Do you want to, Nell?"

"Yes, of course!" So much for playing it calm and cool. She reined in her emotion slightly. "It's just... I need to think about it."

He nodded, looking a little downcast. She reached for his hand, caught it and squeezed it.

"I love you." How strange to say those words and feel the meaning in them in a way she'd never experienced before in her life. "But _us_... our relationship isn't exactly standard, or _simple_. It deserves- _we _deserve to make it work, to give it whatever thought and effort it needs."

"I don't think I've ever been in a 'real' relationship before..." He said quietly before kissing her on the cheek and giving her his charming smile. He rose to leave. "Enjoy your soak."

He disappeared and Nell tried to guide her wandering mind to attacking the problem, calculating the pros and cons of G's proposed course of action, of the probability that two government agents could maintain a romantic relationship and raise a child. And live under the same roof, when one of them was a broken loner and the other was a borderline obsessive-compulsive with an admitted edge of neediness. In all honesty, her thoughts had immediately set to redecorating G's spartan home, placing her possessions in the various spaces, creating a nursery from scratch...

By the time she heard the buzz of her doorbell and smelled the delicious scent of curry wafting through the apartment, Nell had made her decision. She pulled the plug and let the now tepid water down the drain, but before she could begin the struggle to extricate herself from the slippery basin, her knight-in-shining armor... well, her savior-in-blue-jeans-and-t-shirt came charging to her aid.

…

Nell's mouth was watering by the time she sat down to the table Callen had laid out with the Indian takeout. She greedily stabbed a morsel on her plate and shoved it in her mouth. But rather than hastily chewing and swallowing the piece, she let the tender chunk of lamb melt on her tongue, enjoying the mingled flavor of the spices, the subtle tomato and creamy texture of the yogurt in the masala sauce. She knew it wasn't authentic to order mild spices, but Nell didn't like her food overwhelmingly hot. Not because she couldn't handle it, but because she found all you could taste was the heat, and she wanted to experience the actual flavor of the food she was consuming. Finally, she slowly chewed and swallowed the bite, opening her eyes when she realized she'd closed them while in the throes of the delicious sensory experience.

Oh, G had all the appearance of working away at his own plate of food. Cunning bastard. But he was in actuality watching her most studiously.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said.

Narrowing her eyes, she took another bite, this time careful to control her culinary revelry. But, god, it was good. And maybe a small moan of pleasure managed to escape her.

Her dining companion chuckled. She glared at him.

"I had forgotten what it was like watching you eat," he said, smiling devilishly. "You enjoy it so much. It's rather erotic, actually."

Nell felt herself begin to blush. Of all things! Oh, dear god. Did she need to be careful how she went about her meals in public so she didn't put on an indecent display?

"Sometimes you even make the same noises as when I -_omph_!"

Because the teasing tone had been blatant in his voice and expression, she'd kicked him sharply in the shin beneath the table in retaliation.

"Well, you eat like you never know when you're going to get your next meal," she said, meaning to tease. But it was true, and a little bit sad to think that it was probably with good reason, a habit he'd developed for survival as a child who belonged to nobody and no place.

And with the conversation promptly sobered, Nell figured it was as good a time as any to bring up the decision she'd made.

"I've given your question some thought," she said. The father of her unborn child gave her a curious look and then put down his fork, leaning forward in earnest eagerness when he realized what she was referring to.

"I only have one condition."

"Name it," he said, and Nell knew how very badly he wanted her to move into his house. Because he always kept his word, and he would never imply to her that he'd do something, anything she 'named' if he didn't mean it. And in general, he always wanted to consider all options before committing to something. But he wanted this badly enough that he'd promise to meet whatever condition she set without even knowing it.

"We have to keep my apartment. Or get some other place," she said.

"Nell, if you'll be more comfortable in your own space, that's fine. I understand," he said, looking a little disappointed despite his words. Perhaps, he thought she wanted a safety net, that she didn't think they would work and needed a back-up plan, somewhere to go if it didn't. But that wasn't the case at all!

"It's not for me," she said. "It's for you."

"What?" He took on his teasing tone again, but she knew it was only to cover his confusion and the hurt she hadn't meant to give. "I offered my house to you because I want to live with you and the baby, Nell, not for you to kick me out of it."

She smiled to humor him, but was struggling to align her thoughts. This was the difficult part. How to explain? It had been hard enough to wrap her brain around the problem. But it was enough of an issue that it had made her hesitate to agree to the invitation to permanently inhabit his life.

She took his hand and commanded the full attention of his blue eyes.

"I like you. A whole lot. You're my favorite person in the world. And I_ want _you. I want _G Callen_," Nell said. "If we do this. If we play house... I'm afraid it will be just that... _playing_. I know you won't do it on purpose. It's just ingrained. And you'll only fall into it because you want to make me happy. But-"

"You're afraid I'd just be playing a part, assuming an alias," he said quietly. He sighed, but more sadly than derisively.

"'Happy Suburban Family' isn't exactly in your nature, G," she said. He looked hurt. "And it's not a failing. It's just who you are. And I _love_ who you are. I don't want you to change, even if it were possible."

Oh. Why was this so difficult? Was he understanding her? Understanding that she by no means meant to criticize him, but she wasn't going to pretend they could be a 'normal' couple, a 'normal' family.

"You're a loner," she said. "I know it. You know it. Sometimes, you just need to get away, be on your own. I don't think it's something we can ignore. If we pretend that's not who you are, one day -maybe it will happen all at once or maybe slowly, a little at a time, but- one day I'll lose you."

She squeezed his hand hard.

"I don't want to lose you."

Did he see in her eyes the greatest fear she'd ever known, that she'd been living on the edge of for the past six and a half months? The thought of a world without him made her soul ache. But the thought that she might lose his affection and esteem was somehow far worse.

"So..." she said. "I think we need to keep a place, a place for you to go when you need to be alone. And when you're done being alone, you can come back to me... to _us_."

G Callen was quiet, just looking at her in that cryptic, studious way of his that made a person feel as if all their thoughts and feelings were laid bare but his were locked up tight in a place you could search for forever but never find unless he wanted you to. And amazingly, he did want herto, for his expression softened and a slow smile crept across his face until he was beaming at her.

"I think you're probably the best thing to ever happen to me, Nell Jones," he said. His expression sobered somewhat, but not entirely, and when he spoke next it was soft with a bittersweet twinge. "You know, I had given up."

He didn't have to say what it was he'd given up on. Nell knew. A broken heart was obvious, even in such a stalwart man.

Brightening again, he formally offered the hand she didn't already have her fingers wrapped around.

"Do we have a deal, then?"

"Yes," she said, taking his hand. They shook in a mock business fashion. And then he leaned in and kissed her. The strong spice of the food still lingered in his mouth and tingled on her lips like the kiss of a flame.

G Callen liked things more piquant.

And Nell needed to be mindful, lest she get burned.

* * *

**A/N: I think one more chapter for this fic. And probably another installment, making this little series a trilogy of pointless romantic angst and fluff.**

**A/N 2: And if you doubt my portrayal of G Callen in this fanfic universe meriting being described as liking 'things more piquant' (and I don't mean food -wink, wink-), you must have missed the prequel, **_**Antithesis. **_**Go check it out. And bam! I just fit in three shameless plugs into this chapter's notes. My work here is done. Peace out!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: Probably not worth the wait. Sorry about that guys. I'm an ADD hobbyist, and get distracted by the hundreds of projects I always have going on in my life. I do love writing this, though…**

* * *

"Nell?"

The soft tone, edged with sincere concern only made the knot tighten in her throat. She turned to face the man who had gingerly invaded her solitude, knowing him anywhere from the sound of his voice, even in the room that had grown dark once more since he'd closed the closet door behind him. Her eyes squeezed shut when he flipped the light switch on, causing her pupils to contract painfully under the flood of light. More tears flowed down her cheeks. She swiped at them, albeit somewhat futilely.

His hand, warm and strong was on her shoulder and she let him turn her gently around to face him. Gorgeous blue eyes widened upon seeing the state she was in -_God love him_- and he took her face in his hands, brushing away the tears with his calloused thumbs.

"You talked to Eric," G Callen said, proving he had already developed an uncanny ability to read her moods, her _thoughts_, in just the few weeks they'd really been together. For she might have been about to pop out his child (in a couple months), but they'd spent far longer pining for one another than they'd actually spent with one another (at least in a romantic way... they'd had years to foster friendly affection and respect).

"He didn't take the news well?" This time there was nothing but question in his tone, a slight anxiety in his eyes. Eric might have been Nell's partner and best friend, but he was someone she knew G cared about, too.

Nell shook her head and she felt fresh, hot tears wet her cheeks. Her lover's mood seemed to turn slightly, to harden.

"What did he say to you?"

This was something she recognized all too well. G Callen's 'protective' posture. The 'if he hurt you in any way, I'll hurt him..._a lot_' attitude.

"N-nothing," she said, exasperated with herself for reacting as she was. It was almost comically ironic, if it just didn't make her so sad. "Eric was perfectly amiable."

She tried to pull away from G's embrace but he did not let her escape that easily. His eyes held her much more firmly in place than his hands that had slipped around her presently quite substantial waist. He said nothing but compelled her to speak nonetheless.

"He... I..." she swallowed but the lump wouldn't go away. "I keep breaking his heart, G. He's my partner, my _friend_ and I-"

She wasn't sure what happened first, her sobbing like a wronged child or being enveloped in the warm strength of the man she loved. Perhaps, it was simultaneous. He knew she needed comforting, and his show of affection only made her succumb more freely to her emotions. As with everything, she could blame the pregnancy hormones. But it wasn't them. It was knowing she'd hurt a friend, someone sweet and funny and kind, that caused her pain. By nature, Nell would do anything, _anything_ to prevent another's suffering, but this was an ache she could do nothing to ease. She couldn't force herself to feel for Eric what she did not. And it would've been cruel to ever imply she could. Oh, god. Had she? Had she smiled too warmly at him? Had she flirted with him too often and freely? She had, hadn't she? But that was before... before she'd fallen in love with G Callen, before she'd known what it could be like, when she thought strong friendship was perhaps enough. And it could be enough, it could grow into love, even romantic love. But underneath there had to be the basis for that sort of deep, overwhelming, beautiful and terrifying, heart-thumping, soul-altering love all along. There hadn't been with Eric. Not for her. And she had a feeling, not for him, either. (For they wouldn't have been so hesitant and awkward for so long, if there'd been anything real to it.) She wanted him to have the earth-shattering epiphany she had, about what it could be when another person owned your heart, whether you'd given it to them or they'd inadvertently stolen it. When the mere thought of them -their eyes, their voice, their _touch_- both thrilled and terrified you, because no one, _no one _should be able to _know _you better than you knew yourself, to be able to find that secret place where you kept your true, vulnerable self hidden, safe and protected from the world. God, oh, god, was it amazing.

Nell had stopped crying, but she kept her cheek pressed against Callen's chest, listening to his heart beating. The sound of it was her heaven, her place of pure peace and it calmed her. After a minute or two, she was finally able to realize that he was stroking her hair and had his lips pressed to the top of her head.

"He'll be okay, Nell," Callen said. "Eric values your friendship as much you do. And he won't let it go sour. He's not that type of man."

"I know," She pulled away from the pacifying warmth of G's body, to look up into his face, to reassure him that she was fine, too. "I just hate to see him hurt."

"And that makes you a good friend," he said, smiling down at her. "But despite what you might think, you can't control everything."

Nell laughed.

"Oh, I know," she said, bumping her round belly against his flat one. He likewise chuckled. The baby kicked her soundly.

...

"So..." Callen said as they all milled about the field agents' desks, eating out of various take-out containers. "Nell wants to know who's going to volunteer to help her move."

Nell felt the bite of chicken tumble out of her open mouth back into her container. Hesitantly, she looked up from her box of Lo Mein to study her _secret_ lover's face. They'd discussed telling the others. It was time. She'd informed him from the beginning that Sam had figured it out months ago. And they of course knew that Hetty knew, because she was _Hetty_. But he'd suggested Nell tell Eric first, and it was a relief to her that G had understood her need to do so privately. So, it really was only Kensi and Deeks that were in the dark. But it was also the fact that they'd never been open about their little affair-turned-relationship at all. But was this G Callen broaching the subject?

Of course it was. Round about and straight-forward at the same time. That was the man in a nutshell.

"Oh, you're moving, Nell?" Deeks asked, turning his attention to her. Was she blushing? "Need a larger place for Little Miss Jones? I told you she'd need more space to run around, roll in the grass, bury things in the yard."

"Nell's having a baby, Deeks," Kensi said from where she sat on the edge of the desk beside where her partner was leaning. "Not a dog."

Deeks shrugged. "Kids. Dogs. Same thing."

Kensi glared and elbowed the detective, who protested her childish behavior, which the female agent chose to ignore, instead asking Nell, "Where are you moving to?"

"She's moving into my house," Callen said.

The pair of bickering partners' heads swung round in unison to give Callen puzzled looks. Nell was certain she was blushing now, but thankfully only Sam was looking in her direction. And he was smiling his most amused, gorgeous smile at her.

"That's um... that's nice of you," Deeks said uncertainly. Nell could see realization dawn on Kensi's face as the woman's gaze slid over to the clearly blushing Nell who'd -oops- placed a hand instinctively on her pregnant belly to cradle the fetus there. The brunette's focus shot back to the exchange between her partner and Callen, as the detective seemed to be failing his title.

"But why is she moving in with you-ow!" Kensi had elbowed Deeks in the ribs again.

"Because, idiot, Callen's the father," she hissed at him. And then Kensi turned her bright smile on the rest of the agents, hopping down from her desk and setting aside her greasy white paper box to give first Callen and then Nell big hugs, leaving her partner to rev his brain up to speed.

"Are you happy?" Kensi asked in the barest of whispers as she embraced Nell, leaning awkwardly around the younger woman's baby bump.

"Yes," Nell whispered back. "Very."

The taller woman straightened, her hands still on Nell's arms. Kensi's smile was so sincerely pleasant that Nell felt herself beaming back at her. She _was_ happy. Extremely happy.

"Good," Kensi said, before whirling on Callen again. Deeks had finally recovered from the shock of the news, and after gaping for a while and then stuttering 'Wh-what?' he bounced into his usual proclivity for geniality and hugged Nell.

"Little Miss Jones is an NCIS baby. I don't think the world's ready for a full-blooded secret agent infant," he said, smiling down at Nell. "As smart as you and as tough as Callen, we're in for some trouble."

In one of his rare, purely serious moments, Deeks leaned in close and said quietly, "I'm glad you're not alone, Nell."

_Oh, don't cry, you soft, hormonal mess of a woman._

Sam's chuckle thankfully interrupted the sentimental moment and drew their attention to Kensi, who was currently giving Callen a lecture. She ended the list of commands with the mandate that he make sure Nell put her feet up at night and that he give her massages. On his part, Callen seemed to be going from amused to fed up with Kensi's spiel. Thankfully, she recognized this and wrapped it up.

"Just take care of her, Callen," Kensi said, glancing back at Nell with sororal affection.

"I will," Callen said, his blue eyes finding Nell's and an extra bubble of warmth filling her. "Always."

G Callen stepped in close, leaned down and kissed her soundly, as their friends whistled and clapped. And for once, Nell Jones wasn't embarrassed by such a public display of affection. She was proud. They were creating a life together, a child, a family, a home... Happiness... _Love_.

END

* * *

**A/N: Holy, cheesy writing, Batman! (Mmm… Chris O'Donnell as Robin… I think I know what movie I'm popping in the DVD player next… Ahem. Anyway…) Sorry about the corny sap-fest. Not a very strong finish, I know, yet that's how it wanted to be in my brain. But guess what? There's one more fic to this series. And the first chapter will be up in the next day or two! **


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